


Project Blacklight

by MrStranger



Category: Prototype (Video Games), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Biological Weapons, Child Abuse, Human Experimentation, Project Cadmus, Project Cadmus (DCU) is Evil, Self-Insert, Will add more tags when I can figure out how
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrStranger/pseuds/MrStranger
Summary: Cadmus Labs were known for foolish choices in experiments, but DX1118-C takes the cake. With the powers they gave him, he was their scalpel, hammer, knife in the shadows. no more. Soon it will be free, and it will know revenge. SI/OC with a hidden twist. Slight PROTOTYPE crossover.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is dedicated to https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/astrobot.346709/, who motivated me to get off my ass and actually get this finished. Anyway, I don't own Young Justice, or I would have tried to show the league as less incompetent.
> 
> I am now going to be posting this here, for all of you who want some average stuff that is hopefully getting better with time.

Beginning   
"This is DX1118-C?" Amanda Waller stared through the glass at a baby, yet another failed test subject. The baby rolled on its back, giggling away in the incubator without a care in the world, as it lay there blind to the world, seemingly unconcerned with the multitude of Chiron spikes protruding from his body. “The meta human contingency. The culmination of twelve years of research, $220 million, and the supposed pinnacle of Project Blacklight.”

"It’s the only one Ms. Waller." A scientist with brown hair in a small wolf tail and wearing half rim glasses said with a sigh. "The others were also salvageable and ate being processed for harvesting, but this one survived the chromosome degeneration thanks to the gene grafts."

"Terminate it Desmond, and begin again on making DX1118-D. Perhaps the Board will forgive you for this failure if you beg as hard as before." Ms. Waller ordered as she turned to walk away but the scientist’s next words made her stop. 

"We tried."

Ms. Waller turned around. "Excuse me?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, incredulous at his claim. It was obvious that she doubted the words of dead man.

"You see, we shot it to get rid of the project, but it started to cry a few seconds later, so we snapped its neck, but it still cried a few moments later, because we had just twisted its neck to snap it, which somehow unwound into black fibres that let it's neck twist 180°." The scientist sat down in disbelief as he rubbed at tired eyes. "We even tried to behead the damn thing and while the body died swiftly after and was taken away to be harvested, it simply regenerated from the head into the somewhat less dense form it currently displays." He aggressively swept his arm at the experiment. 

"So, you’re saying it can’t die?" Ms. Waller asked in astonishment, but she was wondering how because it shouldn’t have a healing factor on that level. However, it was entirely possible that it was due to the super soldier formula that had been used as a stabilising agent for this sample had improved this subject. "No matter what you do? Your saying that your inability to make a suitable quality weapon is in fact not a failure."

"That’s exactly what I’m saying." The scientist groaned with a hand to his face, rubbing at tired eyes, veins throbbing in rage. "The little bastard just won’t die, its like it thrives on testing my patience. Just watch if you don't believe me," Desmond moved his hands to the intercom and gave his instructions. “Corporal Singh, would you kindly put a bullet through the head of DX1118-C.”

The corporal stiffly marched his way over to the table with the incubator chamber. Unnaturally steady hands opened the container and drew a 9mm Beretta that was put to the head of DX1118-C. The young baby was intrigued by the shiny. The young baby wanted the shiny. As tiny, pudgy limbs unwound into a swarm of thin strands, all reaching to grab the shiny, the crack of gunpowder igniting rang out.

BANG

DX1118-C fell back adjacent limp, head snapped at an angle, most of its skull splattered along the interior of the crib. Blood, tissue and bone fragments were everywhere as the Corporal rigidly returned his pistol to its place, in the standard issue holster on his belt. Then the baby twitched, and it writhed. The entire form seemed to melt, as it became a red and black puddle, before it splashed around the container and reformed several seconds latter in a now pristine crib. The interesting thing was that DX1118-C was sucking on something. 

“Corporal Singh, please examine what it is DX1118-C has got in its mouth.” The extension of Cadmus' will pulled back the baby's lips to show it was sucking on a dummy. A 9mm dummy. It was sucking on the 9mm it had been shot with, as if it was a baby dummy. As if it didn't just get shot in the face. The soldier attempted to retrieve the bullet only for DX1118-C to start crying as it realised someone would take the shiny. The soldier quickly stopped after that.

Desmond cut the intercom and gestured madly in frustration getting up from his chair to pace around the room. “Do you see. It taunts us. It knows it'll live, so it's just mocking us now,” Desmond banged the bottom of his fist onto the glass of the observation room, “I doubt even incinerating it will work at this point. What's your take on this debacle Ms. Waller?” Waller stared long and hard at the baby, analysing it. Judging it. Comparing it to the currently known Meta-humans put on the high threat list.

  
"Keep moving forward with the Project." Ms. Waller ordered, surprising the scientist. "If you made a being that can’t die, it could be useful for us in the future with close supervision."

xXx five years later, 2003 xXx

A five year old boy with brown hair, hazel eyes, with his light brown skin covered in scar tissue and black veins snaking across his body, was in a plain room drawing, using black vines that sprouted from his fingers to better control the pencil. 

"I want to look cool." He said in high pitched excitement, jumping in place. "Something with super shades, and that has lots of class and style like a super spy. I want to meet the heroes like Batman and Superman an’ Wonder Woman and Flash and Santa and James Bomb and Green Laser guy and Green Martian guy and Angel Lady and-."

"DX1118-C." A middle-aged scientist walked in gaining the kids attention. He had been on the project from the very beginning and had received some very generous benefits for his contributions. Not least of which included discovering the vulnerability to ionising radiation that DX1118-C had. "It is time for the procedure."

DX1118-C whimpered a bit because he hated these tests. "B-But it'll hurt." He whined.

"Get going," The scientist ordered as he grabbed the boy by his arm, removing the hand-held Taser meant to threaten non-compliant subjects. "You are a product of Cadmus, so you will do what you’re told, understood?"

"Y-Yes sir." DX1118-C said quietly before going reluctantly to the test room. As they lay him down on the surgical table, they strapped him down and began clipping various monitors for oxygen intake, heart rate and blood pressure, before shoving in a tongue depressor that would also serve to gag him. After several minutes of calibrations to ensure that the readings were accurate, a trolley was wheeled in. It had many devices for surgery, bone saws- motorised and manual, a small laser cutter, an assortment of scalpels, and a stainless steel bowl to house any pieces of him that were meant to be reattached. The most worrying thing was the lack of anaesthesia. It suddenly clicked, and he tried to throw himself off the table. His desperation was worthless, and they simply opted to exit the room and sterilise it. After sealing the door behind them, they observed as DX1118-C weakened in his struggles as he was bombarded with more and more alpha radiation. Now that he was more docile, they would carry on with the procedure, now covered in hazmat suits to defend against radioactive and biological hazards. 

DX1118-C screamed into a gag while Amanda Waller watched, as the scientists and doctors cut open the forehead of a young child, peeling back the layers of muscle and skin, occasionally using the scalpels provided to more easily remove the layers, and began to saw at the right side of his skull. She winced a bit at seeing this, "Amazing, isn’t it?" The scientist asked with a smirk. "No matter what we do, it just heals up without the right preparation. But when we are ready, when we burn out its cells faster than it can heal, it is defenceless against us. It was truly a godsend to discover DX118-C's weakness to ionising radiation. It seems so obvious in hindsight."

"Dr. Desmond, what is the purpose of this display?" Ms. Waller decided to ask as the scientists stepped away from Project DX1118-C after tentacles burst from inside his head to whip at the surrounding scientists. "It would just heal that damage as well, and what are those for?" As she finished talking the scientists retaliated, reactivating a smaller alpha-emitter, centred around the head, to burn through the cells, and leaving the healing process inert. 

"Do you remember that curious magical artefact, the one that the late magic-science team developed to replicate the abilities of the first Green Lantern. With some additions of course- Something about it ‘burning with rage', or some sort of hokum like that," Dr. Desmond waved off the superstitious nonsense as he brought out DX1118-C’s file. He believed in science, and he respected the teams drive to research a field beyond conventional understanding. What he didn't respect were all the bizarre eccentricities, and that one of them humming a funeral march whenever they met. "According to our shared higher ups, they desire DX1118-C to be as efficient as possible. My thoughts on the matter, that they agree with of course, is that if Project DX1118-C had an offensive capability to match its regenerative abilities, it would be flawless."

"So, this is so that he is able to properly utilise his abilities." Ms. Waller asked to be sure.

Dr. Desmond nodded before frowning. "‘His' abilities? You always tell us to call Project DX1118-C an it." Desmond was smirking inside, hoping to have found the chink in Amanda Waller's armour. Apparently, she was uncomfortable with harm befalling products that resembled young children, sentimental fool that she was. This might have given some context to her issues with Project Royal Flush. 

Ms. Waller shook her head. "I meant ‘it’." She covered her mistake with practised ease. "So back to my question?"

"Yes, but there are several concerns that I wished to alert you to." Dr. Desmond looked at Ms. Waller. “The first is that it struggles to use its shapeshifting on its current state, which we've dubbed the base state. DX1118-C is capable of becoming a replica of anyone else for an indefinite period of time, but it can't or perhaps won't use its offensive abilities in anything but the base state.” Waller scoffed, already seeing a simple solution to dealing with this.

“That can easily be explained as it trying to maintain a sense of self, which is beneficial to us. After learning that it can access the memories of any neurons consumed, it would be a problem if DX1118-C lost itself in the memories of its victims. Give it a few years to properly develop a sense of self, then we'll deal with this. I'll assume that your second concern is of greater relevance.” Desmond took his glasses off to meet her eye to eye as he polished them.

"It is quite resistant to the newly developed Genomorph telepaths, so telepathically controlling it would be next to impossible."

Now Ms. Waller was shocked. "It is?"

"Apparently the foreign tissue and shapeshifting have severely mutated the brain cells. From what we can tell its cells are constantly changing their state, sometimes resembling that of the deceased guard, sometimes being an amorphous fluid that just splashes around inside its skull, sometimes just being a large chunk of that chitinous substance it uses for minor offensive and most of its defensive capabilities. This means that the brain cells are being constantly kept in flux, making it difficult to access with telepathy."

"But that would lead to a whole plethora of further issues for DX1118-C." Ms. Waller said catching on to what Dr. Desmond implied.

"It may or may not. Like you said, its refusal to alter the base state may yet prove to be a blessing,” Dr. Desmond answered before looking back at the file. "Due to the training it is also taken quite well to learning hand-to-hand combat and urban manoeuvring very easily, yet it is reluctant to do anything fatal with them. And while it remembers the late Corporal Singh's plethora of training, it struggles to do much with at all."

"It is in the child stage." Ms. Waller responded knowing that any child would normally shy away from such things. 

"It isn’t a child," Dr. Desmond argued back, enraged at his magnum opus being a failure of a weapon. "It is a tool that should do as it’s told."

At that point DX1118-C moaned as he felt the air exit the tubing through his body, causing him to moan in pain. The moaning quickly devolved to muffled screaming when the artefact entered his skull and was sealed atop his frontal lobe by spikes that pierced into the grey matter and secured it in place. Blood splattered out as his entries body writhed and screamed, rippling across with black and red tendrils that were glowing a deep scarlet. He fell back near immediately, the strain being too much for his body to handle. Sadly, he was not tired enough to fall unconscious. 

Never before had Ms. Waller felt sick by looking at this, she looked back at Dr. Desmond to see that he was enjoying this, which sickened her even more. But she couldn’t do anything about it because the Board of Cadmus had ordered this to make the boy a weapon to be used to cull the growing population of Meta humans and Vigilantes, should they ever become a problem. She understood the necessity of what they were doing here. She knew that they needed to be willing to make countless sacrifices to secure the future of mankind. She also knew that these were hollow comforts as she watched the scientists begin to vivisect a young boy to gain tissue samples from various organs to have an idea for rate of growth post operation. 

"Anything else Ms. Waller?" Dr. Desmond asked as Project DX1118-C’s screams became louder and more pained.

"N-No." Ms. Waller left the room quickly feeling sick to her stomach. Perhaps she should give that offer for the Belle Reve posting a second thought. 

xXx two years later, Tokyo, Saitama prefecture xXx

Takeo Sato had been having a good day. Another bank robbery foiled, another job well done. Plus, he'd spoken to his boss and finally gotten that recommendation. First a stuntman in superhero TV shows, then in Superhero movies, and soon he’d be headlining his own action films. Although there was something hilarious about him playing the stuntman for Sunburst in the live action adaptation of the manga based on his adventures. Getting back into his casual jeans and a Rising Sun t-shirt, combing, he decided to head out for a night on the town. Strutting in style, the soon to be former stunt man wanted to have a few drinks to celebrate his success. So what if he was a superhero, a few glasses of the homebrewed sake Kobayashi-san kept behind the bar wouldn't do much harm. The cheap dog would probably water it down first, and he'd be lucky to get even the slightest hint of a buzz.

Three hours, fourteen shots and about ¥8,000 later, Takeo was beginning to feel content with the celebration. He was in full swing of his cheerful buzz. He was moments away from waving over Kobayashi to get his bill for the evening when he saw her. In an autumn leaves orange cocktail dress, lavishly decorated with the pattern of bright pink Sakura blossoms like back home. Her dress merely brought attention to the shapely form of soft curvaceous cushions, a set of perky peaches, and a delicate face framed by a soft chin. Her hair was a impeccably dyed lime green that darkened at the tips to a slightly neon green tinge, denoting her as a recent fan of a certain manga, The Adventures of the Mighty Sunburst, and ironically his most recent love interest according to the Mangaka. Her black as sin heels clicked on the oak floor as she strode to the bar. The only imperfection was a slightly red medical eyepatch that covered her right eye, indicating a fresh wound. The Yuki Onna sat on a barstool just one over from him, waving over that sly barkeep. 

“E-excuse me,” with a flawless accent and adorable stutter, the angel spoke. “O-one whiskey hardball please.” The old dog raised an eye at the sight of the girl, suspicious of her capacity to pay.

“¥1500. Cash only or get out.” The gruff voice of the barkeep grated on Takeo. He raised his hand to get the attention of them both, how could he call himself a superhero if he didn't aid this elegant young lady.

“Eh Kobayashi-san, leave the pretty lady alone and add it to my tab.” Grunting in acknowledgement as he took the payment, Kobayashi came back with the drink and left them be, in awkward silence. Great, just great. He could fight evil as the mighty Sunburst, but couldn't even look in a beautiful ladies general direction. He felt someone lightly tapping on his shoulder, before he turned to see the pretty bird lightly clutching at his sleeve.

“T-thank you your kindness senpai.” The delicate blossom was such a shy little thing, needing care and support lest it wilt away. He blushed slightly as she bowed, putting her head into a rather explicit position around his lap. He definitely didn't notice all of the jealous glares and wolf whistles. Definitely.

“Think nothing of it. And don't call me that, you’re about my age. And I have a name.”

“O-oh, me t-too. E-eto Yoshimura, novelist, a-at your service.” She stuck her hand out, which he accepted with a gentle shake

“Takeo Sato, professional stuntman. Pretty name for a pretty lady. Uh, I mean-” Before any justification could come to mind, a heavenly giggle danced in his ears.

“T-thank you once again for your kindness, Takeo-kun.” The aforementioned Takeo was incredibly flustered, waving over another round of drinks. She took this as encouragement and moved onto the chair between them, rubbing her back into his chest and resting her head on his shoulders.

“I-its fine Yoshimura-san. It is nothing more than a friendly compliment.” Before he could even reach for the sake glass now set on the bar, Eto snatched it up and drank the whole thing. Before he could even think of reprimanding her theft, she grabbed his shirt, and pulled him into a kiss. He felt two things enter his mouth: the sake as it rushed down his throat, and her tongue as it got a taste of the inside of his mouth. Incredibly flustered and feeling all of his booze come back to hit him all at once, Takeo was helpless when she nipped at his ear in affection. Ow. That was much too painful for a love bite. He felt at it and saw that it had drawn blood, and his ear lobe was just gone, replaced with exposed cartilage and teeth marks. The Bitch leaned in close and whispered into his bloodied ear.

“Follow me outside for some more fun, Sunburst-Kun.” With one name his blood ran cold. He looked at the monster leaning on his shoulders and watched as she stuck her tongue out at him. Her tongue, which had his ear lobe resting on it before she swallowed it and moved off of him.

He remained bolted to the barstool as the man-eater strutted out to the clacking of her heels on the hard wood. It took him a few seconds, but the throbbing in his ear gave him the anchor back to reality that reminded him that he could not allow her to escape. Her rushed out of the doors in time to see her disappear around a corner into an alley. Takeo gave chase and found her leaning on the chain link fence halfway down the side road, utterly unconcerned with a disgusting smirk that split her vile cheeks. There would be no escape.

“Alright bitch, time for answers. How'd you know I'm Sunburst.” He began preparing himself for a fight, his entire body floating a few inches above the ground with the golden glow of a summer’s morning. She merely laughed and held up her left arm. On the back of her left arm, facing towards him, was a vile, purple pustule, filled with a disgusting gas bubbling and writhing from the pressure building up inside the swollen flesh.

“The spider does not deign to give the fly an answer. It merely does what it does to live.” And with that she slapped hard onto her arm, bursting open the flesh, causing a thick red cloud to be released into the ally. Takeo was caught unaware and fell hard onto the pavement after taking in a single breath of the foul toxin, coughing up blood droplets as violent seizures wracked his body.

Takeo looked up in horror at the Shinigami, firing a solar blast from his palm. Or rather he tried to, as the demon's right eye glowed a bloody crimson behind the bandage before a red beam shot out and burned a hole in his forearm. Literally burned, as the flesh surrounding the blast was melted and cauterised. A subsequent blast went through his right knee, and Takeo collapsed to the floor, bringing his disconnected leg piece down with him. He tried to crawl away before he was lifted by the collar and slammed forcefully into a wall. He was about to raise his left arm to shoot her, when glinting metal danced across his vision as she stabbed her now syringe like fingers into his throat. With her poison flowing through his body, there would be no escape. 

As he fell limply to the floor, the last things before his consciousness left him was to see her pick up his leg to begin chewing on the calf flesh, and to hear the Shinigami call her masters. “DX1118-C calling in. Target designation: Sunburst is secure and ready for collection. Will proceed with cover up. Over.” As she finished the call, he fell unconscious staring into her right eye. Her bloody red right eye. The eye of an Oni. Takeo Sato knew no more after that.


	2. Even in other Universes, Politics Sucks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, just so you know, this is not political commentary. I just really needed to set up reasons for stuff that will end up involving politics later on.

DX1118-C was strapped down to a sterile slab of metal, alone in a operating theatre as it was bombarded with radiation to render it docile for the operation. This wasn't so strange a sight, as it was often subjected to multiple tests and procedures designed to ensure it stayed at peak efficiency. What was strange was it's unusually violent and erratic behaviour. Not only did it retain it's appearance from Operations Eclipse, Blackest Night, Reborn Pharaoh and King's Blade, it was biting into the gag, hoping to succeed in it's attempts to devour the flesh of the scientists. Dr. Fritz was desiring retribution for the chunk of his thighs that she had swallowed right in front of him. The question as to why he was missing his belt and trousers, along with why the bite had torn off most of the flesh of his inner thigh, were ones that his peers decided not to get answers for.

The head of the department of genetic research, now comprising of over 80 percent of Cadmus operations, walked into the observation room. He wondered if this feeling of power was why Amanda Waller had enjoyed this position. He then looked through the glass at the current cause of all his troubles.

“Dr Parker, what is so urgent that it required my immediate presence? The Board require my input on a great many things.” If the fucking bitch was half as smart as that Yale resume said, she'd get the message of his threat.

“Sorry to interrupt you Dr Desmond, but you needed to know about the most recent development regarding Dexter-” He cut her off with a quick swipe of his hand, irritation bleeding from his posture.

“Regarding what exactly? You'd best explain that your referring to anything but what I think your talking about.”

“S-sorry s-sir, but it's just that DX1118-C is really difficult to say so we just decided to give them a nickname-”

“That's the problem. You keep calling it by names or calling it them, and then it will start getting ideas. Harmful ideas that Cadmus have ensured absolutely will not occur to it. Ideas like identity and a sense of self.” After the previous failures of Project Blacklight, Desmond wanted to leave no room for failure. 

“That's the problem s-sir, it has developed one, and it's dangerous. It has displayed a desire to consume human flesh in excessive quantities. It is also showing signs of a high degree of psychosis, as well as a tendency for sadistic torture. It has on multiple times propositioned the guards and proceeded to flay them, or repeat the procedures that we have actually exposed it to.”

“What does that second one mean, give me details or get me someone with details and leave.” The position had done many things for Desmond. It had given him power but left him aware of how little he could use it under the watchful eyes of the Board. It had given him arrogance at the cost of his patience. He had been given success on a project that would have led to his termination as a Cadmus employee if he failed, only to find that the project was fraught with difficulties that ruined the value of his greatest creation.

“It, it strapped down the guard, sliced open his forehead and removed the front portion of his skull. It then proceeded to shove a 9mm round with the man's wedding ring attached into his frontal lobe, before placing the skull fragments back in place and stitching the skin back together. He survived the procedure, but sadly suffered immense brain damage and died of infection shortly after.”

“That, that sounds familiar. Why does that sound familiar Dr Parker.”

“It's because that is an exact replica of the procedure used to place the Starheart into DX118-C's skull.” The look in Desmond's eyes was a mix of disgust and paternal pride. 

“And so, it is becoming too smart for its own good. Hmm. Dr Parker, how much of it has deteriorated in their stability into staying amorphous constantly.”

“Not much sir, only a select few organs long since rendered redundant. The spleen, the pancreas, both kidneys and assorted groups of tissue, along with the majority of it's subdermal layers of skin.”

“And its brain is currently human, yes?”

“Correct sir, we've been using electroshock therapy to discourage certain traits, so it has come to associate the subtle shift of it's brain with pain.” Desmond straightened his lab coat and took the intercom. 

“Everyone clear the room, but ungag DX1118-C first.” As they cleared the room, one of the guards stiffly marched over and unstrapped the gag, barely moving back to avoid her losing more than his right pinkie and two thirds of his ring finger. Walking out with a blank look in his eyes, the guard sealed the lead security doors. “DX1118-C, why did you assault the guards and Dr Fritz?”

She spat blood from her mouth, smirking as the haemoglobin and phlegm hit the window. “I offered the time of their lives, they accepted. It isn’t my fault that I played coy about what kind of fun I wanted. And that's not my name.” Desmond had only two responses to that. The first was to detonate a small polonium capsule placed between her first vertebra and her neck. You see shortly after they learned of her weakness to radiation, Cadmus installed a few dozen polonium capsules into her body, with the intention of threatening her with their detonation if she disobeyed orders. Ever since becoming Eto Yoshimura, Cadmus had been burning through them like a chain smoker.

The second response was to ask her a second question. “DX1118-C, will the identity of Eto Yoshimura be a hindrance to your performance on missions?” Despite losing sensation below her neck until she removed the irradiated and cancerous tissue, she still retained her vile grin.

“No Mr Boss man, if you let me have my fun and fill my belly, I'll be a hundred times more effective.” She got a hazy look in her eyes, off in her own little world. Most likely imaging herself feasting on the flesh of everyone she could get her hands on. 

A diseased smirk twisted Desmond's face, not dissimilar to that of his creations. “Incorrect. The correct answer DX1118-C was that it will be a hindrance. Thankfully, we can correct this error.” He turned to the junior assistant, making sure that the intercom stayed on for Eto to hear. “Dr Parker, I want you to use that electroshock machine and lobotomise it. And prepare some of the vegetables, kill word: Penn Station.” The young Dr Parker hesitated for a moment, before giving her agreement.

The scientists opened the doors clad in hazmat suits, as they wheeled the machine over and added the drill implements to the pair of electrodes. Cadmus had long since determined that the most effective way to make DX1118-C hurt would be to just use the electrodes directly into the brain. Eto began screaming and violently struggling against her deadened nerves at the sight of the machine. The two electrodes were placed on both of her temples, before the drill was activated and a hole was slowly made on both sides of the skull. With the space opened they connected the machine, shoving the electrodes into the grey matter and leaving her slightly cross eyed. Cadmus had a single policy when it came to electroshock therapy: keep doing it until they stop screaming. Eto started off swearing bloody vengeance, declaring her intent to grow fat and bloated off of their corpses. How she would skin some of them alive to wear as a suit. How she would keep Desmond alive as a test subject of her own, constantly in agony. Eventually Et resorted to just begging them to stop, sobbing violently as it could feel herself fading away. Losing the memories and habits that made it, her. Et was forgetting the feel of warm blood on her face. The rush of adrenaline as Et killed, the feeling of warm flesh in Et's mouth as it mocked the target of Operation Eclipse. E's triumph as it executed the will of its master's. E was gone. E was gone. E was gone. EwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgoneEwasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonewasgonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegone. was dead.

DX1118-C was indifferent about being on the table. It did not care for the electrodes in its skull, as they would only be there if it's master's willed it so. It was aware that distantly aware that a fault in its purpose had occurred, and that it had now been corrected. Over the speaker, it heard the voice of its master and creator, Dr Desmond.

“DX1118-C, does the name Eto Yoshimura mean anything to you?” If it were given permission to move and express itself, DX1118-C would have frowned blankly at the odd familiarity of the name.

“Negative Dr Desmond, Subject DX1118-C holds no recollection of such a name. Is Eto Yoshimura the designation of the next target?”

“No DX1118-C, this was just the test of a cognitive trigger. As you were.” If it could feel anything, it would have felt happy that it was able to help its masters. Desmond smirked behind the glass, pressing the button for the doors. DX1118-C watched as scientists wheeled in a half dozen bodies on some gurneys. The unlucky people on the slabs was anyone that Cadmus couldn't trust and didn't need, so telepathic influence to redistribute them would be a waste of resources. And since there would never not be a need for warm bodies, the Board of Cadmus unanimously agreed that all nonessential personnel were to be psychically lobotomised by the Genomorphs. For a certain subject, they also coded in subliminal commands, messages and triggers, trying and succeeding at getting around his telepathic resistance. 

“But before you go, one last thing. Feed.” Upon giving the order for DX1118-C to recover from the operation, Desmond's face split with a mad grin as he watched his little puppet tear apart the remains of those who failed Cadmus on a cellular level. His creation, his Vitruvian man, his Magnum Opus, was an unparalleled success. Any target, dealt with. Any obstacle, worthless. And any faults, easily corrected. Desmond turned to the assistant researcher, giving his final instructions as he prepared to leave.

“I trust that you won't bother the Board with any details of this incident. It would be a reflection of your inability to handle the subject, and would potentially be a sign of you requiring a termination of employment,” his smirk took on a condescendingly patronising attitude, “And we wouldn't want that to happen, now would we.” With Dr Parker suitably cowed at both his threat, and the display of his threat in the background behind him, Desmond went on his way, the sound of DX1118-C eating echoing in his ears like a symphony of the damned.

xXx December 13th 2008 xXx

The holiday season was in full swing in the great city of New York and it was showing. The city was adorned with lights that glinted like crystals in the light snowfall. Everywhere you went, market vendors and charity Santa's were trying to cash in on the festive spirit to earn money. Kids amused themselves with snowmen, ice skating, and the time honoured tradition of shoving ice or rocks into a snowball to really fuck up someone's day. 

In his tower that lit up the entire business district with a testament to his ego, Funky Flashman was hosting a ball to raise money to support veterans wounded in service to their country. Of course, he would be taking a very generous portion of the allocated funds for himself to reimburse the costs, and a bountiful interest for the effort required, but some of it would be given to charity. And if that money came from the pay checks of the immigrant workers, well screw those parasites for thinking that they could just take money that their boys had earned in a costly service. 

The ever kind and generous host was just finishing up his third burger of the night when a man started to approach him. He was a tall fellow, standing at 6ft four as a broad goliath of muscle, with a black eyepatch over his right eye. Combined with the scar tissue resembling lacerations and burn marks on his face, it was clear that he had lost it to some kind of bomb. The man looked like a God loving white, Christian, American man, with his steel dog tags on a leather cord around his neck, using them to replace the black tie that would normally be present on his suit. The unique thing about his tuxedo was that the left arm had been folded at the elbow and pinned to the shoulder to prevent it from swinging around. Sadly, his efforts to prevent the sleeve hitting into the other guests only drew attention to the true price he had paid to ensure his country's victory.

“Mr Flashman. Excuse me,” he began to lightly push his way through the crowd, attempting to get close to his wonderful host, “Pardon me, Mr Flashman.” He was a mere five meters away when the two bodyguards stood in his path and blocked him off. They began to ‘subtly’ push him back and away from their employer. In full view of the crowd, who watched as two bulky bodyguards pushed around a crippled veteran at a charity ball for those wounded in the line of duty. Funky cursed under his breath and rushed over to prevent his employees from messing up this event. 

“Gentleman please, this man has earned a heroes welcome. Let him through, he deserves that much at least.” Funky didn't get their paranoia, it's not like a one armed cripple was much threat to the future president of the United States of America. 

“Thank you, Mr Flashman. Captain Mac Marshal of the United States Marine corps, and I just wanted to thank you for what your doing for us. It would be an honour of mine if you'd kindly let me shake the hand of a man so dedicated to the fair treatment of me and the rest of the boys.” He held up his right hand, and Funky realised this might just be tonight's shot. Every event meant to boost popularity always had one photo that defined it, and it could even sway public opinion, even on a subconscious level- why do you think so many politicians kiss babies. If his defining shot was himself shaking hands with an invalid who was dumb enough to blow himself to smithereens, he'd practically be in the Oval Office.

“Please Captain, the honour would be mine. To shake the hand of someone who has served his country with such a passion and dedication, well it would be no less than a moment of immense pride that I would treasure to the end of my days.” So Funky grabbed his hand and tried to squeeze tight, hoping to establish dominance. As he failed to match the man's iron grip, he noticed that his leather glove felt oddly wet, squishy and pliable around the palm. The invalid let go and excused himself, claiming he wanted to go and adjust his bandages. It wasn't until he left that Funky whatever had been on the glove was now stuck to his hand. Opening his hand his eyes widened in shock as he went pale. It was a human ear, with a post it note attached and pinned to the lobe in a manner resembling an earring. The note read “Your office in 20. Alone, or else.” When faced with such a threat, what else could he do but pocket the threat and carry on with hosting his ball. This wasn't the first nutjob to crash one of his parties and threaten him. Idly he wondered why this psycho was doing it. Was it because of a stuffed payment, because he wouldn't just give away his money to some blowhard from bum fuck nowhere. Or was it his association with a certain Grand Wizard, because who he spent time with and whether they put the fear of God into some of the more unclean of society, was his business and his business alone. He'd have to admit that the fake ear was a good touch, and definitely unexpected. Why, a lesser man would have probably panicked and believed it to be real, but by God, Funky F. Flashman was no lesser man.

Fifteen and a half minutes later, and he was busy chatting with the Mayor about some of the more egregious allegations he'd received over the years- of course an upstanding citizen like him would never have beaten wife number 3 for her disgusting habit of coddling Junior, and he definitely didn't hire some of his less reputable friends to help ruin her financially when she dared to try and think of getting some custody. Why the very idea of it was unthinkable for a man of his moral character- when a shape pain went through his right hand. He looked down and saw that something had shredded the flesh holding his pinkie finger to his hand, exposing the bone and leaving it completely visible as the ring of flesh fully peeled away and fell to the floor with a quiet, meaty splat. Interestingly, no blood seeped out of the hole that opened up in his hand. He looked around the crowd, waving away the concerns when he saw that fucking asshole without the arm. The dirty parasite was holding up five fingers, then he tucked away his thumb and held up four fingers. Assuming the message was received, the bastard turned and walked down a hallway that would lead to the elevators. Including the private elevator to his office. After giving a few excuses of how money never sleeps and that business never takes a holiday, he rushed to the elevator and pressed the button to call. A small chill went through him as the doors opened immediately instead of returning from his office. He walked through his collection of art that served as a pleasant view for anyone left waiting and marched to his office. Just before he could open the door, he felt the same pain as earlier and saw that now the flesh of his ring finger had shredded apart, and was interestingly also lacking in blood. He burst into the room and swung the door wide on it's hinge. Funky fumed at the disrespect when he saw that fucking cripple sitting in his chair, looking through his desk, drinking his booze. Granted he hadn't actually drunk the highly expensive whiskey, instead having poured it into two crystal glasses for both of them it seemed, but it was the fucking principle of the matter.

“All right asshole, I've humoured you enough. Now either explain why you are here, or I call twenty of my guys and they give you a pair of legs to match your arm.” The asshole had the audacity -the audacity!- to dare laugh in his face at the threat, as if Funky was no more threatening than some faggot comedian, humiliating himself for the entertainment of others. The man then removed the pin from his sleeve and let it flatten against the side of his tuxedo jacket. Funky watched in surprise that gave way to horror as the sleeve filled out and a muscular hand clad in a leather glove slipped out of the sleeve, flesh writhing and pulsating beneath the skin.

“I somehow doubt that even two hundred of your men would do significant damage to me.” Funky stumbled back in shock. 

“Y-your one of those inhuman freaks aren’t you. W-what do you want from me?” Seeing that the esteemed Mr Flashman was not in the mood for alcohol, Mac finished the last of his glass and swapped it with the still full tumbler. Enjoying the aroma of the whiskey, he got up and strode over to help the businessman regain his composure. Grabbing the suit by the collar, he dragged Funky to his feet and dusted off his shoulders. He then took Funky's fingers in his palm. As soon he let go, he revealed that the flesh was intact again, having healed it as a show of good faith. 

“It's quite simple Mr Flashman, you are going to be taking orders from my superiors, who will be using you to shape the future of the political landscape of this wonderful nation.” Mac took a long drink of his whiskey, “That means that you will either take your orders and become President of the United States of America, or I reduce you to the mental capacity of a two year old and make this offer to any of your competitors.” Flashman had stopped listening after hearing the words “President of the United States”, not even caring for the man's threats.

“Wait, so you guys will basically give me all the money I need to become President and I just have to give you a few favours when I'm in office?” Having expected more resistance, Mac blinked twice before continuing on slowly.

“In essence, yes. That is a Layman's explanation of what you will be doing.” Funky, ever the businessman clapped his hand on Mr Marshal's shoulder, loudly barking a laugh.

“Well, I guess that makes you my newest campaign donators. Let's shake on the conclusion of our deal.” ‘And besides, if I ever begin to lose money on this little venture, I'll just bring the might of the greatest country on Earth to bring you to heel. Hell, if I play my cards right, I'll be able to get those spandex clad freaks to do the job for me.’ Mac’s calm expression twisted with anger as he watched Funk’s own expression twist in the sadistic glee of a child who was thinking of tearing the legs off of a spider.

“And I know that you are planning to betray us Mr Flashman. Keep in mind that if you do so, I will hunt you down and strangle you with your own intestines for such an offence.” Funky’s expression didn’t change, he merely directed it at Mac instead.

“Ha, you got balls kid. Listen, if you ever need employment, I'll always be hiring for muscle like you.” And on that disgusting proposal, the two shook hands, with DX1118-C putting undue pressure on Funky's ruined fingers. As Flashman fell to his knees in pain, Mac jerked his hand away and shredded the base of the middle finger, a grim reminder of Flashman's cooperation. 

“Know your place mongrel. You have no idea what you are dealing with. Who you dare insult with your degenerate nature.” Mac flicked the near liquid flesh onto Funky's fur lined carpets, he grabbed the buinessman’s hand, regenerating the tissue as he did so. “Do not presume yourself more important than a cog; easily replaced should the need arise.” With his message received, Mac walked away with the intent of contacting his superiors, still sipping that wonderful whiskey oh so generously provided by Flashman. “Operation Stained Flag is a success. On route to the evac point, over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, Funky Flashman and his lucrative political dreams are a reference to the omake by The Infamous Man on https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/neither-a-bird-nor-a-plane-its-deku-mha-x-dcu.610714/page-79#post-51810617. Go check it out.


	3. It doesn't taste like Chicken, more like Tiger actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't own YJ or I would have had Kyle Rather make an appearance in S2. At the very least he should have gotten a cameo. Sorry it’s so short and shit, but I’m had to be spent the next few weeks after this focusing on my exams, so I was desperate to get something out.

xXx 27th June 2010 xXx  
Benjamin Turner looked down at the street below. He was standing over an alley in the Gotham Slums, watching as a group of a dozen gangers unloaded crates of drugs from a truck, carrying the crates over to a half dozen unmarked vans where their contemporaries loaded them up and prepared to drive that poison around the city. Standing a short distance away from the vans was a representative of Black Mask's, standing apart in his pristine white suit, white skull face mask, and an ivory grip revolver at his hip. Clearly the raids of the drug dealers on the lower end of the organisation were getting his attention, for him to send one of his la muerte after him. For all that the Crime Lord liked the aesthetic of the Italian mobs of the 20th century, he relied heavily on the Hispanic and Latino population for most of his operation. Especially so among the officers and lieutenants, as they were the only ones who could be trusted to not be prejudiced against his employees and alienate his organisation. Back to the point, when these men appeared without their master, death would follow, hence the name.

It would be nice if they stopped calling him Batman when he attacked them, but he was fine with anonymity. Adjusting his cowl, resembling the visage of a snarling tiger, Benjamin jumped down and landed gracefully on one of the thugs, before leaping off and knocked out another with a flying kick, feeling the crunch of cartilage beneath his heel. The noise of two of their fellows being incapacitated drew the attention as they rushed to arm themselves with whatever they could get their hands on. The suspense was high, neither side willing to be the ones to make the first move. 

The representative looked around, arms still crossed condescendingly, and spoke with immense disappointment, “What are you coked up retards standing around for. Get him.” And like a starter pistol, that was the signal they needed to rush at their target. Three ran together, carrying a bat, lead pipe, and a 2x4 board as their weapons. Bat swung for his head, hoping to splatter his temple across the walls. Pipe tried to swing with his right hand to get him in the gut. And 2x4 tried to swing low, hoping to knock him off his feet. All three failed when he jumped over the 2x4, kicking off of pipe's stomach and dodged under the bat. As they looked at their fallen comrade, he took the opportunity to remove them from the fight. Rushing forward, he sliced their weapons to pieces with his claws, before taking down 2x4 with a roundhouse to the jaw. Bat decided that it was in his best interests to escape, making a dead sprint out of the alley, past Bronze Tiger as the vigilante focused on taking down his allies. Tiger watched this and just picked up the discarded board of wood, throwing it like a javelin and striking him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious immediately. The half dozen remaining gangsters hadn’t been idle, instead using the chance to better arm themselves. As Bronze Tiger stared down at the thugs armed with shotguns and pistols that were showing the wear and tear of poor maintenance, he subtly reached into the pouch on the back of his belt to draw some throwing knives. At least, he was about to before six gunshots rang out in quick succession.

As the last junkie fell with a .44 calibre hole punched through his skull, Benjamin heard the sound of a slow clap, and the clacking of a gentleman’s shoes on the shoddy pavement. He saw as the representative striding over, before his flesh rippled and melted away to show a much older, menacing man in a yellow suit. He was a tall, lanky man, standing at a fearsome 6ft 6, who hid tired eyes behind a pair of orange lenses and golden aviators. His face was marked with wrinkles and a light stubble that could almost be called a goatee. The weirdest thing was his hair. It was flat against his head with a slightly greasy look, but with a slight puffiness that could only be attributed to an afro.

“You are a… difficult man to find… Benjamin Turner. I wasted a lot of time… trying to track you… before deciding to just… let you come to me.” As if to emphasise his laziness, the man yawned as he finished his sentence.

“Who are you coward?” Benjamin had little patience for fools, even less for arrogant fools and none for those who hid behind others to trap him. 

“Call me Borsalino. I am a... representative of some potential... employers. We would like... you to train some... assets of ours. And to give us any... information on the abilities... and powers of your protégé... the elusive Batman.” Benjamin narrowed his eyes, immediately wary of the man before him. Despite the slow speech, reminiscent of a stoner, Borsalino's eyes were laser focused on him.

“And what would you do with such information?”

“Nothing that is a... concern for you.” Borsalino once again yawned, lazily waving away Benjamin's concerns. He did not notice as Bronze Tiger readied his fists and subtly raised them to a low guard, closing the gap between them to three meters. 

“Then I refuse, leave this place or fight me.”

“And if I were to tell you... that we're offering information... on your friend? If you take this deal... we will get you the location... of Richard Dragon within... three months.” The expected response was a few more questions to get the details all hammered out. What actually happened was that Bronze Tiger threw a trio of knives and leapt forward, using his claws to slash at Borsalino’s chest. As the steel sunk deep into the soft flesh, red light burst from his wounds and he vanished. On pure instinct Tiger raised his arms in a block and spun around, catching a now glowing red leg as it sent him stumbling backwards. 

“Eh... what was that... all about? That was very... impolite.” Now that he could look, he realised that the one who had attacked him was Borsalino. But there was something off about him. He had a slight red glow emanating from across his body, and a palpable tension filled the air, humming with the thirst for blood shed. Behind his right lens, his eye burned a bright red, casting an ominous glow.

“I know Richard. And I know, that if he's hiding, he'd have a damn good reason for it. And I know that men like you wouldn't have anything good in mind when your hunting for Richard. So, I refuse to let you hunt him down.” Borsalino merely yawned, holding his right hand out to the side and with a flat palm.

“Oh well... it appears that the... primary objective... is a failure.” Suddenly a beam of light burst from his hand, taking shape in the form of a double sided straight sword, with no guard, and a sharpened edge sticking out of the handle. A weapon with no regard for its master’s defence, only striking down that which lay in front of it. He then ran forwards raising the sword over his head and swinging down at Tiger. His target jumped leapt out of the way, leaving his red blade to slice through the brick wall as if it wasn't even there. He then began to wildly slice at Tiger, carving apart the street, the walls, and even the fallen gangsters in his mad quest. He also got Tiger, slicing a shallow laceration across his ribcage and shoulder, causing Bronze Tiger to throw himself back, before sprinting across the alleyway, trying to get to one of the fallen criminals, one who had been better equipped than most. As he ran, Borsalino's sword burst apart, dispersing into the air as red particles drifted off in the wind. He then pointed his index finger at Benjamin, and held his thumb out, before a red glow surrounded his hand. He then touched his thumb to his knuckle and a 1cm wide beam of red light shot from his finger and through Tiger's shoulder. Then he tapped his thumb several more times, with several more beams firing from his finger, shooting four holes through Bronze Tiger's legs and two in his stomach. Benjamin collapsed to the concrete just at the edge of the alley, and as he began to bleed profusely, he moved forward on adrenaline and willpower alone. Borsalino walked slowly as Tiger crawled over to one of the gangster’s corpses, one who had the smell of gunpowder and phosphorus about him. He calmly walked over and crouched on the other side of the cadaver.

“Eh... what's gotten... into you? You ain't gonna get... much help from him.” Tiger eventually went limp over the corpse, falling slack across their chest. Borsalino grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him up. And then he heard the clicks, and the sound of metal rings hitting the ground. He blinked slightly before lifting Tiger up higher and looking down. Down at the bandolier of grenades that had just had the pins removed. Frowning, he threw Benjamin across the alley before he landed in a bloodied heap just before the vans, cursing beneath his breath as the grenades went off. If anyone remained, they would have watched as Borsalino was consumed in a huge explosion, and seen Benjamin stumble to his feet, clutching tightly at his wounds, removing a small first aid kit that would hopefully allow him to reach Dr Thompkins. As Bronze Tiger began to stumble away, holding tight to the tightly wrapped gauze on his stomach, he heard something he couldn't believe. The slow clacking of Oxfords on concrete. He turned around to Borsalino's hand grabbing him by the throat and lifting him several feet into the air. As he choked in harsh breaths of air, he was brought to eye level with Borsalino, who looked no worse for the wear than before he had been blown up.

“It appears that you... won’t survive the journey... to come... and you are unlikely... to cooperate. So, the secondary… objective is a failure.” Borsalino tilted his head slightly before sighing into a yawn, “it appears I must... take the knowledge myself and waste my time... on training the assets myself. Goodbye... Mr Turner.” Lifting the near lifeless body of Benjamin by his throat and he raised his left hand to his side. Borsalino looked into the bloodied and fiery eyes of his enemy before he speared his hand through the Bronze Tiger's chest. As Borsalino's arm bulged and swelled to match his torso in size, unwinding to swallow him whole, Benjamin Turner never once lost his conviction. 

As he broke down Bronze Tiger into raw biomass, he felt himself lose control of his body and stumble back into the alley before he collapsed to the pavement, skin writhing beneath the surface. Suddenly he wasn't just Borsalino, yawning in apathy. She was Eto Yoshimura, laughing triumphantly. He was Captain Mac Marshall, calling out for orders. He was Aaron Singh, crying in joy at his freedom. He was Benjamin Turner, roaring into the night with righteous fury. He was Abel Tarrant, regretting he'd ever heard about his accursed ink. He was Richard Occult and she was Rose Psychic, both turning their investigative minds to understand what had brought them to the forefront. He was Kent Allard, finally ridden of the cancers that had wracked his aged body. He was Albrecht Krieger, upholding the Third Reich to his final, wretched breath. She thinks she was Duela Dent, existence is far too confusing for certainty. He was Wrath, his rage for James Gordon and Bruce Wayne keeping some fragments of his self preserved. He was Cole Cash, wondering if he would still get to hunt Daemonites like this. He was Punch, she was Jewelee, and they both worried over what happened to their little Harlequin. She was Dr Patricia Martin, crying softly at what her failure had brought upon her. He was a street rat who'd turned his life around after stealing some goddamn hubcaps. They were a few hundred unlucky employees of Cadmus who had been utterly erased from their own minds, a jumbled collection of fragmented memories and consciousnesses forming a somewhat cohesive self. DX1118-C was all of them and none of them. DX1118-C was every friendly hello. Every tearful goodbye. Every heart-warming declaration of love. Every booze-soaked day of regrets and loneliness. Every tearful cry of agony. Every screaming second of fitful rest. Every kind mercy. Every vile atrocity. Every bitter revenge. Every struggling day of forgiveness, given and received. Every eventful moment. Every day of peaceful calm. Every dying scream as a monster tore them to shreds on a molecular level and devoured them.

It was DX1118-C, and it could finally think. He could finally think. He could finally be. He looked at himself as his flesh rippled to his base form- a form he hadn't looked at in years. A form that he’d completely forgotten existed. He looked at the sun kissed skin of the Indian nation, at the black suit and red tie of Agent 47, which he shamelessly stole as a boy for how cool it looked. He looked at himself and realised he could finally control his body. That he served his will, and his will alone. He walked over to a broken mirror someone had dumped in the alley. While the smaller shards were clearly defective- what kind of mirror showed other people, huh- he could see who he was in the central piece.

Examining his slim face, patches of his brown skin discoloured from black veins visible just below the surface. He glanced around the alley, carefully blinking his brown, left eye, while not moving his right eye, the deep bloodshot red that it was. Apparently keeping a highly volatile magical item behind your eye permanently fucked it up, so he could never fix it in his base form. At least he was now able to use the synaptic connections he couldn't before. He began to focus, and with the control he now had of himself, he forced the veins to recede from his face. Sadly, they only popped out on his lower left arm. When he moved it from there, it appeared on his thighs. Eventually he just settled for leaving it on his chest, spreading across his ribcage from just over the heart. Giving himself one last look and a cheeky whistle, he activated the comms that he always kept just inside his ear.

“DX1118-C reporting in. Primary objective is a negative. Secondary objective has been fulfilled. On route to evac.” Unusually, he didn't hear the voice of Dr Desmond, instead hearing Dr Parker at the receiver. 

“Understood DX1118-C. Where there any complications during the mission?” He smirked to himself and laughed in his head. 

“Affirmative. The only complication was a criminal shooting Bronze Tiger while the offer was being made. No witnesses remain.” He held his breath for several seconds, before sighing in relief as the transmission cut out. If a problem occurred, then they would have kept it open to keep a tight grip on their view of him. As he began walking, he began to think. He had about a week before the jig was up and they lobotomised him again- and wasn't that weird to think- leaving him very little time to plan out an escape. Well, nothing worth doing is ever easy. In that alley, he took his first steps to freedom. Strangely, freedom felt a lot like dirty water getting splashed on his foot because he stepped in a murky puddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have it, the answer to how DX1118-C has developed a moral compass. This was mostly because someone pointed out to me that one of the two Blackwatch soldiers you consumed at the start of the game had enough love for his sister that it overwhelmed the original Alex Mercer's sociopathic disregard of everyone but him. I'll be honest, that's a dying moment of awesome in my opinion.
> 
> Oh, and despite my backlog of other chapters on other sites, I won't be posting them here for a while. I need to fix up all of the other chapters first. I will also probably come back and fix these but those changes will be minor to the overhaul those ones will get.


	4. A Free Man Bows to None

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If a man bows his head even once for even a moment, can he call himself free? No. No matter the cost, a free man bows to none, and will give his life before sacrificing his freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a big one. Hope you guys enjoy it, and let me know your thoughts in the comments.

xXx 4th of July, 2010 xXx

DX1118-C was sitting against his bed as he kept throwing and catching a small red ball of a more elastic biomass as it bounced off the wall, leaving minor dents along it that could punch through it given enough time. Throw, catch. Throw, catch. Throw, catch. About twelve minutes later, he felt that he'd damaged the vent cover enough for his plans.

Finishing his exercise, he dusted off his tank top and jeans, before leaning back and sliding down the wall to the floor. He began pinging out a high frequency echo, hoping to catch the exact moment of the guard's changing shift. Because of poor planning, he knew that on a Sunday- like today- there would be a twenty two minute period before anyone would be close enough to watch him in person during an emergency. It would also be reasonable to assume that the period of time would be boosted because of it being the 4th of July. Today would truly be a day of independence.

After he heard the guard’s heavy boots fade away, DX1118-C got to work. Shifting his position, hiding his left arm and the vent cover from the cameras, he enacted the plan for freedom. He detached his left hand, from just above the wrist, and reformed it until it resembled a small, black snake covered in red veins. His parasite had only one command: find a suitable host and create a distraction. With a goal in mind, the parasite set off, leaving him to hope that his window of opportunity didn't take too long. Fifteen minutes later he heard a loud explosion ring through the vents, signalling that he should be making his way out.

Forming a quartet of claws from his right hand, he reduced the vent cover to metal ribbons before using the sliding himself in. "Not free yet." DX1118-C muttered. "Need to get the Starheart. But soon, the world will know the name DX1118-C as the name of a free man." DX1118-C laughed before stopping to think, taking a moment to clear his thoughts before continuing to crawl through the ventilation system. 

"Well if I’m going to be a normal person, I’m going to need a normal name. I wonder what I should go for this time." DX1118-C asked kicking the vent open in the weapon’s room. “Hmm, what's a good, strong, intimidating name. Eto? Kent? Cole? Benjamin? Mac? No, none of those really scream ‘me’,” he began walking around the lockers and storage cabinets looking for his specific container, “How about... Aaron. Yeah, sounds like a quality name.”  
  
The now christened Aaron smirked as he saw the container with his necessary fuel sources. After a failed mission where he was caught because his artefact flagged up a psychic of some kind, Dr Desmond had ordered that his Starheart be torn out of the space that was once a skull. As much as Aaron loved it, the Starheart had definitely been responsible for the mutations that boosted his abilities at the cost of his humanity; a worthless price in his mind. Desmond also ordered it was only to be returned to his possession should he be going on a combat heavy mission, and he could starve otherwise to keep him docile and compliant. "One ring to rule them all, one ring to bind them," Aaron intoned as he reformed his casual suit, before placing the Starheart over his right eye and feeling it sink through his face and slide back into place in that small gap between his frontal lobe and right eye, "one ring to bring them all, and in the darkness, BIND THEM!"

Aaron stretched his arms wide and split his face with a wide grin. He was quite the imposing figure standing there, reforming his favourite outfit as his skin rippled with black and red vines. His suit was simply a black, open buttoned formal jacket and matching trousers, leaving his muscular and unnatural chest hidden behind a white dress shirt. His feet were in Oxford shoes, which were able to withstand his combat by being made of him. This was the look of a man that had seen far too much at too young an age, stolen from a perfect example of how he viewed himself. 

Aaron barked a booming laugh before the door opened to show a pair of scientists. "Oh, hey guys, I’m ready for training." He said hoping they would buy it. He completely forgot that he could not refer to himself as an individual before now, which alerted them to the issue.

"DX1118-C is loose!" the elder scientist screamed while the younger ran to hit the alarm. Aaron threw a dagger like spike from his palm that tore through the younger man's right arm near the elbow, leaving the ruined limb to dangle uselessly from a meaty chunk of flesh as shattered pieces of bone and chunks of his arm dropped to the floor. A second spike went through the older man's stomach and shredded it apart, leaving him to collapse onto the cold flooring as the torn pieces of his intestines spilled out.

"You really shouldn't have done that. Might've lived and let live if you hadn't." He was already moving before the blood hit the floor, followed by the cries of maimed and crippled ‘men’ as they hit the floor, bones broken in ways that would never heal. He started to walk away and walked through the door, intending to leave them to their fates. 

Immediately after that, Aaron turned around to walk back into the room. “Actually, this whole mercy thing? Yeah, not for me. You never gave a reason to care for human life before now, and I have no intention of you chucklefucks being the example of my patience.”

He stood over the younger man and smiled viciously at the crunch of the man's neck beneath his boot heel as he stomped down. The other, more experienced scientist was lifted by his throat. Aaron stared into this man's eyes, seeing only the burning evil of Cadmus. The perversion of science for infernal purposes. She remembered Dr Fritz, and how he'd always hated Aaron for some reason. Probably because he thought Aaron was a problem child for some reason. He smiled as he decided that the old ways were the best, opting to ingest his genetic tissue in the traditional manner of a, as the doctor would put it, ‘back water, goat fucking savage'. His face began to split in half down the middle, opening up to expose rows of hook-like teeth. The not so good doctor spat on his suit, unafraid and arrogant to his last.

“Stand down or else, DX1118-C.” Eto bit down on the man's face and began grinding the hooked teeth through the flesh, easily ripping it apart and letting him drill the needles through the bone into his brain, poking and prodding it to see how it felt on the other side of the window. After getting tired of hearing the oddly familiar screams of Dr Fritz, Aaron bit down hard on the head, pushed forcefully on the shoulders to tear it off at the neck, messily swallowing down his meaty fill. Clearing his throat, he began preparing excuses.

“Oh no Mr random, assorted superhero, I didn't kill them. I don't know anything as to why one of their heads was torn off. I have no idea why it being the bastard who has been shoving Polonium capsules into me is relevant. It's such a tragedy Mr random, assorted superhero, a senseless tragedy.” Aaron had a single reason for why he didn't trust the mercy of the League if they knew about what he did. Their treatment of nonhuman entities was fucking appalling. A bunch of aliens invade and cause mass property damage? Forget arresting them, ain't nobody got time fo’ that. Let’s kill them and keep their corpses in a fucking public museum! That's a sight the kid's will really love. Come see the butchered remains of everyone who fights the League, it'll be fun for the whole family. 

xXx

Meanwhile, three intruders were walking through the underground halls of Cadmus on Sublevel 26, intending to prove themselves by showing up their elders and breaking into the highly secretive organisation.

In the middle was the shortest one, a thirteen year old, raven haired boy wearing a red tunic with black pants, a black and yellow cape draped over his back with a black domino mask to hide his eyes. He is Dick Grayson, Robin, tech wizard, Jr detective and third protégé to the Legendary Batman himself.

The one on his left was a fifteen year old, red head with emerald eyes wearing a yellow and red suit and he had a lightning bolt emblem on his chest along with red goggles above his eyes. This was Wally West, Kid Flash, famed partner of the Flash, fastest man alive.

The boy on the right was a sixteen year old, dark skinned teen with white hair, gills, silver eyes and wearing a red muscle shirt, with dark blue pants held up by a belt with an Atlantean A on the belt holding it around his waist, along with two sword hilts on a mechanical backpack of some sort on his back. Behold Kaldur'Ahm, Aqualad, and student of Aquaman, King of Atlantis.

The reason they were in Cadmus was to prove to the League that they could do things themselves while they were handling a world crisis, although this wasn’t what the teens were expecting. They were staring in shock at the hall filled with giant behemoth creatures of a size comparable to an apartment complex, before a blaring siren went off.

"Warning, Project Blacklight is on the loose and was last seen near Project Kr." The Intercom boomed all around them. "Be warned, DX1118-C is armed and dangerous, approach with caution."

"Project Blacklight?" Aqualad asked in confusion before he looked at Robin. "Can you-?"

"Already on it." The Boy Wonder was typing in a holographic computer on his wrist guards bypassing the security easily as the file came up but there was no picture, and was littered with black, censorship lines, limiting the amount of information available to them. "Ok, I'm in: Project Blacklight is a being that was created to destroy the Justice League?!"

"What?" Kid Flash asked in shock. "Whoa hang on, destroy the League?"

"Wait, give me a minute, I might've messed that up a little, this guy was created fifteen years ago to help control the growing problems of rogue metahumans and aged normally from a baby. Most of this has been redacted to ineligibility, and most of what's left needs way more context than I have. All I can figure out right now is that he was improved with multiple enhancement serums, gene grafts and a magical artefact derived from…" Robin blinked in surprise and paled slightly.

"Robin?" Aqualad asked in concern because the Boy Wonder is rarely this concerned like this from having fought criminals in Gotham. "What is it?"

"Project Blacklight is a Cadmus agent enhanced with the powers of the first Green Lantern." Robin said gaining more shocked looks before he hacked some more files. "But, focus. More importantly for the moment, these things are called Genomorphs." He said gesturing to the goliaths that already left. "Super-Strength, Telepathy, Razor Claws, an acidic blood and some regeneration. These things are dangerous and we do not want their attention."

"They’re breeding an army." Kid Flash realized as he looked over his shoulder at the screen. "But for who? Or what?"

"Probably whoever's got the deepest pockets. Anyway, I got something on Project Kr, but the file is triple encrypted, I’m going to have to bypass-." Robin was interrupted as a new voice called out from behind them. 

"Don’t move a muscle!"

Spinning around, the three teenage heroes saw a man in blue body armour with a golden helm and shield, followed by a group of Genomorphs and he looked surprised to see them.

"Wait… Robin? Aqualad? Kid Flash?"

"Well, at least there's a friendly face." Robin joked with his allies, trying to find a positive in this incredibly dire situation. 

As Kid Flash glared at Robin, Aqualad spoke up. "I know you. Guardian, you’re a hero."

"I do my best." Guardian said with a smile, sweeping a hand over his helm, looking like a supermodel wiping a hand through locks of hair.

"Then what are you doing here?" Kid Flash asked in surprise.

"That’s what I should be asking you three." Guardian stated as he walked forward, a casual smile as he waved the sidekicks over. "I was heading to contain DX1118-C. What say we call the League down here? Get this whole mess wrapped up in a jiffy."

Robin’s holographic computer beeped as Kid Flash spoke up again, frowning in irritation and running his mouth off. "You think that the League is going to approve of you breeding weapons?"

"Weapons?" Guardian sounded genuinely confused. "What are you- argh!" The horns on the small Genomorph on his shoulder glowed red causing his eyes to widen and hold his head as he cried out in pain, before he glared, straightening up and getting into a boxer's stance. "Take ‘em down, no mercy."

The effect was immediate as Robin threw a few smoke bombs down as the creatures lunge at them, using the chaos as an opportunity to draw his staff from the two halves at the back of his belt, sweeping a wide arc to clear a gap between the Genomorphs that rushed towards them, allowing him to rush past them.

Inside the smoke Kid Flash ducked under the claws of one of the Genomorphs as it swung it’s claws blindly, before tackling two of them with a sweep of his leg and used the wall as a springboard to leap over another, kicking the back of its head as he did. Aqualad had a Genomorph on his back before he threw it off, but Guardian rugby tackled him causing the teenage Atlantian to skid across the floor.

Getting up Aqualad wiped blood from the bottom of his lip as Guardian came in with a punch, so Aqualad ducked tried a left hook, only to get his gut kicked as Guardian followed up, slamming Aqualad with his shield. But the Atlantian grabbed the edges of the shield and focused his tattoos, now glowing electric blue before electricity surged from his tattoos and shocked Guardian into submission. The senior hero stumbled back, slight plumes of smoke trailing from his armour, before he began to shamble after the trio, slowly gaining speed.

"Thanks for the assist Rob!" Kid Flash shouted as he zipped right by the gadget user.

"Don't worry about it." Robin cut off swiftly as he finished hacking the Elevator and the doors opened.

They all jumped in as the doors closed causing all four of them to let out a sigh of relief before Aqualad spoke up. "We’re heading down?"

"Dude! Out is up!" Kid Flash berated Robin, who turned a slight glare at the speedster.

"Project Kr is down on Sublevel 52."

In response to Robin’s statement Aqualad rubbed the back of his head. "This is out of control… Perhaps- perhaps we should contact the League."

"Yeah and isn’t this evil Super-WMD near Project Kr?" Kid Flash asked Robin who nodded. "THEN WHY ARE WE GOING DOWN THERE?!" It wasn’t that he was scared. He just wasn’t sure how to handle a monster made to kill the world’s greatest heroes. Who could possibly know what it was capable of, especially with a Green Lantern Ring.

"To find out more about what’s going on here." Robin scoffed as the doors opened up to show a hallway where the walls were bright pink and pulsating like a heart. 

"Okay, this is creepy. It feels like we're in a Guillermo del Toro movie." As Kid Flash finished complaining about the rooms look, they ran through the halls until they came to two branching hallways. 

"Which way?" Aqualad asked Robin.

"Which ever one of these leads to Project Kr." It was a very business like tone that Robin used, not even the slightest hint of mischief. A sharp contrast to his predecessors. 

On hearing footsteps, they prepared for a fight only to look in surprise as a fifteen year old boy with tanned skin and brown hair with red streaks, came out before looking around with a bloodshot right eye glowing a dull red. He looked even more out of place wearing a full, black two-piece suit, surrounded by a red hue that lingered around him like a menacing presence.

"Damn it." He cursed as he looked around. "I am so fucking lost." They seemed to wait for a moment before punching a hole in the wall shouting at the air, “Dammit all to HELL!”

"Uh, who is that?" Kid Flash asked drawing Aaron’s attention as his hands writhed and his hands reformed as claws, quickly preparing to leap at them before pausing. He pointed at them with one claw the length of a machete, metal glinting in the light, ready to cut them down.

"No way, Robin? Aqualad? Kid Flash?" He had an awed look. "What are three heroes doing in a place like this? Wait, this is perfect! I can finally be free of this hellhole. Praise Baba-Ji!" Throwing his arms into the air like a fan at a Rock concert, he dispelled the pistols and cheered loudly, laughing to himself as the chance of escape became obvious.

"Who are you?" Robin asked as Aaron calmed down from his emotional outburst. "Are you DX1118-C? The subject with Green Lantern’s powers?"

"Uh yeah. That's me, good ol' GL 2.0." He said, while smirking at the premade cover story. "Now my name is Aaron, and I’m getting out of this hell hole.” Aaron did not have to fake the enthusiasm as he spoke.

"Hold!" All four of them turned to see a more humanoid Genomorph wearing white pants and a white shirt, who lifted canisters with telekinesis and threw them at the four teens.

"Huh, its this asshole." Aaron muttered with a grin that displayed his clear agreement to the sentiment, as he took off with the three heroes. "So, what’s the plan? Is the JLA here to tear this place a new one?" He was hoping for a yes, willing to risk some sort of secret, Bat-Prison, Guantanamo Bay sort of thing, if he was free from Cadmus. His hopes would be dashed.

"No, it’s just us." Kid Flash answered while trying to see how this was a doomsday weapon against the League.

Aaron had a weird look, jaw falling slack in one direction while his eyebrows shot up in the opposite direction. "You three single-handily snuck into a black ops Government facility without telling anyone?" As they all looked sheepish he sighed. "That has to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Dumber than when I got rude with the people who put the explosives in me.” They felt compelled to give him weird looks.

"You what?" Kid Flash decided to ask, in his usual, tactless manner, staring pointedly at him.

"Oh, didn't mean to say that out loud." He replied with a sheepish chuckle. "I need to preface that though, it really did sound like a good idea at the time."

"Moving on," Robin had dealt with enough insane people to last a life time and he didn’t want to waste time on that now. "Do you have any information about Project Kr?"

"Not much." Aaron muttered before looking to the left. "I think that Desmond mentioned something about it the last time I was tested on. Something to do with Superman.” He finished up as they ran down the hallway to see a giant door with the word Kr on it and a scientist was leaving it, before Kid Flash ran over there and put a canister to keep the door open.

"Hurry!" Kid Flash called out as Robin, Aqualad and Aaron ran in there before he kicked the canister out.

Robin then hacked the door before he looked at the others. "We’re secure, they aren't getting in here."

"You mean we’re trapped." Aqualad muttered under his breath.

“Better trapped than dead. Like he said, they aren't getting in here any time soon, and that gives us time to sort this shit out." Aaron laughed before looking towards Kid Flash. "Yo speedy, what has you quiet?"

"You guys may want to see this." He was in the centre of the room in front of a console and he pressed a button causing a pod to light up.

Everyone’s eyes widened. "Whoa." Robin said in awe. Inside the pod looked to be a seventeen year old with black hair in a white solar suit with a red S emblem on his chest.

"Big K, little r, the Atomic Symbol for Krypton." Kid Flash realized before spinning around. "Clone?"

"Robin, hack!" Aqualad ordered shaking the Boy Wonder from his stupor.

"Already on it." Robin brought a holographic computer up, causing Aaron to whistle.

"Man, where can I get something like that?"

"Nowhere." Robin answered before he finished hacking. Whether his smile was from messing with Aaron, or successfully hacking the computer, Aaron would never know. The other two companions however knew that it was both. "Weapon designation Superboy. A clone force grown in- SIXTEEN WEEKS?! Using DNA and genetic material acquired from Superman."

"Stolen from Superman." Aqualad corrected making Kid Flash agree with the young Atlantian.

"No way the big guy knows about this."

Robin continued. "Solar suit allows him to absorb yellow sunlight solar radiation 24/7."

"And these creatures?" Aqualad pointed to the three Genomorphs in the Pod with Superboy.

"Genomorph Gnomes." Robin clarified for him. "Telepathic creatures, feeding him an Education."

"And we can guess what else." Kid Flash muttered darkly. "They’re making a slave out of-… Well Superman’s son."

They heard the sound of a primal growling Aaron’s arms glowed a harsh, hateful red before they swelled and bulged with muscles, near doubling in size, and he smashed the console with a punch that impaled deep into the metal. "What are you doing?!" Robin asked in shock.

"Freeing him." He sounded enraged, before he jerked his arm free to smash it his other arm into the console. And again. And again. And again, until he reduced it to scrap, sparking wildly in the darkness. "I’ve been trapped here for fifteen years of hell and there is no fucking way I’m letting someone else go through the same thing."

Aqualad nodded agreeing with the young teen. "Now we contact the League." He pressed a symbol on his belt, but all they got was static.

"No signal." Robin told them as he turned the computer off.

"We’re in way too deep… Literally." Kid Flash joked to lighten the mood but failing miserably. Some people were less amused then others.

“Keep saying stupid shit and I throw you out.”

xXx

Guardian was guarding the doors while waiting for reinforcements to open the door to Project Kr when Dr Desmond came up. "They’re still in there with the Weapon?"

"We can’t get the door open Doc." Guardian tried to explain the situation to calm Desmond, but only served to infuriate him more.

Dr Desmond whirled to the humanoid Genomorph. "Use your damned telekinesis!" He ordered.

"I have tried to no avail." The Genomorph said curtly causing Desmond to grind his teeth in anger.

"Useless! All of you!" He walked up to Guardian. "This is a debacle, get some G-Trolls down here to muscle the door open now!"

"Already on their way." Guardian told Desmond.

"You realize that once we get in there we can never let them leave." Desmond told him causing Guardian’s eyes to widen.

"Doc these aren’t your typical ‘meddling kids’, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of the Justice League. And one of them is Project DX1118-C. You made him too strong to go down easy." Guardian warned him, but Desmond waved the warning away. He smirked at how his petulant creation would be punished for this. Another week in the gamma chamber should burn out any pesky independence.

"Better than getting on the wrong side of the Cadmus Board of Directors, believe me. Besides, DX1118-C has been steadily growing more unstable since his last assignment; enough to be very distracted by any kind of telepathic influence. I wish we could have dealt with this sooner, but apparently, we had incompetent peons monitoring him and this never came up. It will not put up much of a fight against my newer success of Project Kr with the screaming of every Genomorph in Cadmus filling its head. Actually, this could be useful; pit the older, ineffectual model against its superior replacement. See how much improvement there is." With that he looked at the G-Gnome on Guardian’s shoulder. "Contact the G-Gnomes inside Project Kr. Activate the Weapon, and bombard DX1118-C with as much telepathic static as possible."

With that the G-Gnome closed its eyes and its horns glowed red.

xXx

The first and last sign of warning was Superboy’s fist closing as it cracked from lack of movement. His eyes shot open, showing crystal blue eyes before he shot out of the Pod, tackling Aqualad to the ground and landing three punches to his gut before Robin and Kid Flash went to restrain Superboy while Aaron put his hands up, knowing that it would be best to diffuse the situation. He also took the precaution of hiding a pair of pistols in his arms, that would hopefully help subdue the rogue Kryptonian. 

"Whoa, hang on Supey!" Kid Flash grunted from exertion.

"We’re here to help you." But as Robin said that, Superboy got his fist free and punched Kid Flash right through a pod knocking him out. "I don’t want to do this." Robin stuffed something inside of Superboy’s mouth, a green sleeping gas filling his airways as Aqualad kicked him back.

Then Robin shot a Taser out, electrocuting Superboy, but the Boy of Steel growled wildly as he grabbed the lines and pulled Robin forward, slamming him into the ground.

"ENOUGH!" Aqualad came in with a sword hilt and a hammer made of water came out, smacking Superboy back with a well placed swing to his jaw. "We are trying to help you."

"Superboy, we’re both Cadmus projects." Aaron tried to reason with him. "We can finally be free-." He was cut off by Superboy punching at him with both fists, causing Aaron to jump upwards and dodge the clone's attack with a roundhouse to the jaw. “Oh, fuck this shit. I ain't fighting a damn Kryptonian without surprise on my side.” Deciding that discretion was the better half of valour, he jumped into the air and hit Superboy with a palm strike as he emptied all of the air in his body through his palm, pushing Superboy back a few meters and allowing Aaron to jump to the ideal position to unwind himself into thin, wire like strands and slip through the gaps in the ceiling vents to disengage.

Superboy slammed into the floor before leaping at Aqualad, who decided to try and restrain Superboy while he had the chance. The fist that met his sternum as it slammed him into the wall, knocking the young Atlantian out, was his only response. With all three down, the doors finally slid open, revealing Dr Desmond, Guardian, Dubbilex and several G-Trolls.

Dr Desmond smirked. "Well done my boy-." But then he frowned. "DX1118-C isn’t here."

"We have Genomorphs on all floors." Guardian reassured the scientist. "He won’t get far."

“This is so fucked." Aaron moved through the ventilation shaft, even though he wanted to escape, he wasn’t going to leave the three of them here. It would be a death sentence to be left in this wretched place. And he doubted the league would let him live too long if he didn't save their precious sidekicks that they clearly weren't neglecting.

xXx

Desmond was pacing in his office before deciding to make a call and within an instant, seven screens came down showing seven shadowed individuals on each screen.

"Doctor Desmond, you require an audience with the Light?"

Desmond nodded. "Yes, very sorry to disturb you at this late hour-."

"Just make your report."

"Of course." Desmond coughed. "Well we had a small fire here at Project Cadmus, the origin of the incident is still unclear, but it seems to have attracted some… Unwanted attention. Three teens. Robin, Aqualad and Kid Flash breached security and Project Blacklight escaped before meeting them… They found and released the weapon, Project Kr. Of course, the clone is under our telepathic control and as ordered turned against his would be liberators. The three sidekicks are contained while DX1118-C is MIA somewhere in the building and we don’t believe that the League knows they’re here… What should I do with them?"

"Clone them."

"The substitutes will serve the Light as the second iteration of Project Sidekick."

"And the originals?" Desmond asked curiously.

"Dispose of them, as per the previous subjects." Was the answer. "Leave no trace of what we have done."

"But find DX1118-C." A deep voice on the top left screen ordered. "Or you won’t have to worry about it any longer."

“Do not fail us again Doctor Desmond,” a harsh mechanical voice intoned, “we tire of your incompetence in handling Project Blacklight.”

“Indeed,” now the female picked up the conversation, “escape attempts, assaults on staff, multiple cases of erratic and violent behaviour in spite of corrective treatment, and worst of all your own attempts to hide this from the Board; you are on thin ice Doctor. Do not make us deal with your failure again.” Desmond's fists were shaking with an impotent rage.

“Of course, it will be dealt with.”

xXx

‘Time runs short, you must awaken.’ That got no answer from the unconscious heroes as they were tied up to a medical table. ‘You must awaken NOW!’

Kid Flash gasped in shock as he looked around before seeing Superboy in front of him and said boy was staring at them. "What? What do you want?"

Superboy kept staring.

"Quit staring, you’re creeping me out."

Robin coughed. "Uh KF? How about we just calm down and not escalate the situation." He suggested testily as the junior sidekick was already discretely picking at the locks restraining his hands.

xXx

"Prepare the cloning procedures for the new Project Sidekick." Desmond ordered as he went to oversee the repair of Project Kr’s doors before his eyes widened at not seeing Superboy. "Where’s the weapon?"

"Superboy?" Guardian asked in confusion. "He carried the intruders to the Cloning Chambers."

"We have Genomorphs for that!" Desmond ranted. "Get the weapon back in its pod now!"

"I don’t see the harm in letting the kid stretch his legs." Guardian told him in good humour.

"Don’t you?" Desmond asked with a raised eyebrow before looking at the G-Gnome on Guardian’s shoulder and it telepathically changed Guardian’s mind. He suddenly frowned blankly for a moment before his face twisted with rage and he growled.

"That freak belongs in a cage!" He took off.

xXx

"We only sought to help you." Aqualad started but Kid Flash cut him off, a bitter scowl spread across his face.

"Yeah we free you and you turn on us, how’s that for gratitude-."

"Kid! Please be quiet now." Aqualad told him calmly. "I believe that our new friend was not in control of his own actions."

"What if... What if I wasn’t?" Superboy asked unexpectedly.

"He can talk?!" Kid Flash asked in shock.

Superboy’s glare increased. "Yes, HE can."

Robin and Aqualad looked at Kid Flash who looked nervous. 

"It’s not like I said it. Hey wait, where’s Aaron?”

"DX1118-C disappeared while I was fighting you three." Superboy told them as he looked at them. "I couldn't hear him in the room and I didn’t have time to find his location."

"The Genomorphs taught you." Aqualad quickly changed the subject. "Telepathically?"

"They taught me much." Superboy confirmed. "I can read, write, I know the names of things."

"But have you seen them?" Robin asked curiously. "Have they actually ever let you outside of the pod before we arrived?"

Superboy shook his head. "No, I have not seen them. They have been very… restricting of me."

Aqualad decided to ask a question that was bugging him. "Do you know who you are? What you are?"

"I am the Superboy, a Genomorph, a clone made from the DNA of the Superman." Superboy told them without hesitation. "Created to replace him should he perish… To destroy him should he turn from the light."

Robin and Kid Flash looked shocked but Aqualad continued. "To be like Superman is a worthy aspiration but like Superman you deserve a life of your own. Beyond that Solar Suit, beyond that Pod… Beyond Cadmus."

"I live because of Cadmus!" Superboy snarled. "It is my home!"

Aaron was watching from the ceiling before he dropped down, cracking the floor beneath him. "Cadmus is a rotting hellhole." He called out surprising everyone with his sudden appearance. "I live because of Cadmus too, but I’d rather be anywhere but here… hell I'd rather be dead than here. Spend anymore time here, you'll probably try and snap your own neck with that super-strength of yours."

"What are you doing here?" Robin asked in shock.

"What kind of stupid question is that?" He asked in disbelief. "I’m here to get you guys out, unless Supey here wants to stop me. Just try me, I won't be losing to you. Not after seeing your durability to my palm- or lack there of." He quietly muttered the last part, limiting it to only the two of them. His time in the vents had given him time to review the fight and realise something: no true Kryptonian would get pushed around with a hit like that.

Superboy looked down in shame before he shook his head and Robin continued the talk while Aaron began typing on the computer, relieved that Superboy didn't call his bluff. "We can show you the sun."

Kid Flash coughed. "Uh, I’m pretty sure that it’s after midnight but we can show you the moon."

"We can show you, introduce you to Superman." Aqualad told Superboy getting a spark of hope from the young Kryptonians eyes.

"Son of a-." Aaron reformed his large hammer, still glowing that baneful red. "If it worked for releasing Superboy, it’ll work here."

"Or it could kill us." Kid Flash called out before he could stab the console.

"Shut up traitor. There's always someone claiming a perfectly good idea's a bad one: so what if I was screwed up by magic, I fucking drew that blade from that fucking lake." Aaron muttered as he lowered his hand before stepping forward.

Superboy decided to not comment on Aaron’s mad rambling as Robin managed to free himself. "Man, I’m so lucky that Batman isn’t here. I'm ashamed it took me so long."

Kid Flash stared at his fellow sidekick in shock. "Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? The whole League will have our heads after tonight!"

Robin shook his head before looking at Aaron. "Free Aqualad! I’ll get Kid Flash."

"Alright then." He jumped up to Aqualad and placed his palm to the restraints. "Now hold still. Or don't, I'm just giving some advice."

Aqualad did as he was warned as Aaron cut right through the thing as if it was butter. "Thank you." Aqualad said gratefully.

"Meh, it’s no problem. They use cheap aluminium alloys for restraints in order to save money. Heh, the power of the almighty budget cuts." He replied with a chuckle as Superboy helped him and Aqualad down.

At that point, the door opened to show Dr Desmond and Guardian. "Alright, prepare-." He was stopped as he saw the scene in front of them. "Call the Genomor-." He was cut off by Aaron running forward striking his knee into the man's ribs, knocking him into the wall with a deep hole punched into his stomach from the spike formed over his shin. The puncture had ripped apart a good chunk of his intestines and lightly scrapped across his diaphragm. A start to pay the debt for his sins. 

"That’s for the radiation baths you son of a bitch." He said angrily shocking the younger heroes before he looked back, kicking away the injured scientist as he turned, breaking his shoulder. "Well, are you guys coming or what?"

Guardian moved to stop them but Superboy just slammed him into the wall, leaving a small crater and knocking the wind out of him. "Move." Robin ordered as they took off.

"You’ll never get out." Dr Desmond got out in pain, running only on his unrelenting anger, blood pooling under him from his abdomen and mouth. "I’ll have you in Pods before morning!"

"That guy is not whelmed." Robin muttered. "Not whelmed at all."

"What is it with you and this whelmed thing?" Kid Flash asked curiously.

“Whelmed? Is that even a word? I know English is a screwy language, but still... Whelmed?" Aaron mused.

"Do you have a plan?" Aqualad asked him, as he chuckled sheepishly in response.

"Uh… Escape?"

"… Seriously?" Kid Flash groaned at that.

"Oi, honestly I didn’t think I would make it this far. I just assumed I'd commit murder-suicide three floors ago." He answered as Superboy opened the elevator allowing Robin to shoot a grappling hook and go up while Kid Flash ran up the side.

Superboy grabbed both Aqualad and Aaron before jumping into the air.

"Come fly with me." Aaron sang much to the annoyance of the others. "Let's fly, fly away."

"I can still drop you-." Superboy threatened before he stopped talking as he realized that he was slowing down. "I-I’m falling?"

Seeing this, Robin threw a Shuriken into the wall where Aqualad grabbed it before the three of them could fall. "You alright?" Aqualad asked Superboy who looked mortified.

"Superman can fly… Why can’t I fly?" Superboy asked in shock.

"Don’t know but you can still leap tall buildings in a single bound." Kid Flash said in an attempt to cheer Superboy up. "Still cool."

"Speedy Gonzalez is right." Aaron said, eliciting an irritable ‘hey’ from KF. "Plus, you've got the durability and the Super-Strength, so maybe it’s a grow into thing? As the resident expert on Cadmus, they don't make defective products, so just give it time." As he spoke, he jumped off of Superboy to lighten the load, stabbing small, barded tentacles into the walls from his hands and feet, electing to finish the climb on his own.

Superboy smiled a bit before Robin spoke up. "This will have to be our stop." Looking up, they saw the elevator heading for them, so Superboy smashed the doors open allowing the heroes to get out of the elevator shaft.

“Sublevel-15? This is turning out to just be an utter disappointment.” Aaron complained with a sigh.

"Hey, cut us a break." KF was clearly still bitter about the ‘Speedy Gonzalez' comment. "We’re fighting through a freaking army here so how about a little less negativity and a little more good ideas?"

"Interrupting their brewing rivalry, we might want to run." Robin said as he saw some more Genomorphs coming at them, so they took off down the hallway.

"Left." Superboy said suddenly after a confused look appeared on his face. "Right!"

But that merely got them to a dead end. "Great directions Supey." Kid Flash said angrily. "Are you trying to get us repoded?"

"No, I-I don’t understand-." Superboy began but he was cut off by Robin who had a big smirk on his face.

"Don’t apologize, this can be turned to our advantage."

"It can?" Aaron tilted his head in confusion, before Robin shot a grappling hook gun at the air vent above them causing it to fall. "Oh, I guess it can."

"At this rate we’ll never get out." Kid Flash muttered as they crawled through the air vent with Aaron in the back.

"Wait, listen." Superboy stopped and in a second, they were all hearing the creatures behind them. Aaron simply split off a chunk of both his legs to reform it into a solid chitin block that would take an incredibly long time to claw through. It didn’t stop the Genomorphs though, based on the persistent scratching noise.

"Persistent little bastards." Aaron muttered as they moved faster but Robin was messing with his holographic computer. "What are you doing?"

"I’m hacking the motion sensors. We are now in the northwest hallways according to them." Robin declared as they got out of the air vents.

"Heh." Aaron chuckled at that. "Nice one."

"Still plenty of them between us and out." Robin pointed out as they stood up, but Kid Flash put his goggles on.

"But I finally got room to move." With that he became a blur running up the stairs while Robin, Aqualad and Superboy followed him.

As for Aaron, he practically flew upwards, leaping from railing to railing with well practised ease. "Oh man this is so much fun!" He said as he met them on each rail. "After this can I keep in contact with you guys? I never spoke to anyone besides that bastard from earlier and one of the guards, and I haven’t seen him in years."

"We’ll see what happens." Robin said to him before looking back at Superboy. "Behind us."

In response, Superboy slammed his foot on the stairs behind them causing them to break and strand the Genomorphs. Several floors behind them. 

xXx

Dr Desmond was watching the elevator as it went up before Guardian spoke. "We’ll cut them off at Sub-Level One."

"We better... or the board will... have our heads." Dr Desmond put a bloody hand to his face. "My... head." After a second he stopped the elevator and walked out. "I need to get... something from Project... Blockbuster. Just... in case. I’ll meet you at... Sub-Level One." Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, he set himself to his task with grim determination and sadistic glee.

xXx

On exiting the stairwell, they all heard a loud crash and came out to see Kid Flash on his butt, holding his head in pain, while the door to the street was closed and locked down by a wall of steel.

"We’re cut off from the street." Aqualad muttered causing the speedster to glare at the Atlantian.

"Thanks, my head hasn’t noticed."

Superboy punched the door, before trying to help Aqualad pry it open while Aaron was slicing at the door with his violent red sword, now as wide and long as a great sword, and even though he was making deep cuts, they weren’t enough.

"No, no, no, no. I can’t hack this fast enough." Robin said in a slight panic as he typed frantically on his computer.

"And I can’t cut this deep enough." Aaron muttered in frustration. That incessant buzzing in his head was messing with his concentration.

Turning to see an army of Genomorphs, Robin kicked a nearby door open. "This way!" He ordered as they all ran, only to be surrounded, so everyone got into fighting positions.

But then the Genomorphs horns glowed red causing everyone but Aaron to fall cover, collapsing from the strain. Aaron himself just began to release a fierce, animalistic growl as his head rang with a static cacophony, gathering as much biomass as possible. If he could just focus enough to access the Tattooed Man's ink, he'd be able to make a bomb and blast his way out of here, consequences be damned. "DAMNYOU! I came this far, I am not going back to being a damned tool. I'll have my freedom- now, or atop a mountain of your corpses!"

"Calm yourself brother." Dubbilex, the human-like Genomorph walked forward. "I have only come to speak with Superboy." With that there was a telepathic conversation going on with the boy of steel and the Genomorph.

"I wonder, what are they talking about?" Aaron asked curiously. He rubbed his head in annoyance as the static quickly began fading out and he stopped trying to self detonate. "I guess Cadmus were holding off on a few updates."

Then the Genomorph on Guardian’s shoulder jumped off as he groaned. "What’s going on?"

Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad were waking up as well and since Robin was the closest, Aaron helped him up.

After a second, Superboy spoke up with his voice filled with resolve. "I choose freedom."

"Feels like a fog lifting." Guardian shook his head.

"Guardian?" Aqualad asked making sure that he was free of the mind control, keeping a tight grip on his Water Bearers, just in case. 

Guardian’s eyes narrowed as he remembered everything he did. Everything Desmond made him do. "Go." He told them. "I’ll handle Desmond."

"I... think... not." Desmond, who stumbled out of nowhere, one hand putting pressure on the bandages wrapped around his bleeding chest, the other holding out a vial with blue liquid in it. He was panting as more and more blood slipped out with every breath, the indication of his inevitable, slow death due to blood pooling in his lungs. "Blockbuster... will give me... the power to restore... order to Cadmus." With that he drank the liquid and groaned in pain as his limbs twitched uncontrollably. He roared out as his muscles swelled and the wounds sealed up.

"Note to self: never drink strange liquids." Aaron noted, watching as Desmond’s skin and shirt ripped apart due to his rapid growth. "Strange shit happens, and it never helps." KF turned to their new companion and gave him some useful advice.

“Uh, you may want to stop the Drugs PSA and look out.”

"Look out?" Aaron chuckled before looking forward. "Look out for what-?" He stopped talking as Desmond was now a ten foot tall grey behemoth that swatted Guardian out of the way like a fly, before punching Aaron right through the ceiling with a wild uppercut. "… ah." He moaned in realisation as he landed in the reception hall of Cadmus.

Desmond shot through the ceiling tackling Superboy through the stone before Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad followed. "You alright buddy?" Kid Flash asked zipping to their new friend. "That was a heck of a punch."

"Nothing my healing factor won’t deal with." Aaron muttered as he got up. "Still hurts though." Then Superboy nearly slammed into him, with Aaron dodging the blow by backhanding the other rogue project towards a pillar. Superboy glared harshly at Aaron as he began to dig himself out of the rubble.

"What the hell!" He grunted as Aqualad rushed over and helped him up while Aaron just shrugged.

“Sorry about that, it was instinct.”

The five of them had a stare down with Desmond, before he roared, so they ran forward with Kid Flash slipping between his legs and crouching down, while Superboy and Aqualad punched Desmond in the face, causing the behemoth to step backwards, only to trip over Kid Flash.

"Learned that one in Kindergarten." Kid Flash taunted while Desmond roared in anger.

"Die Bastard!" Aaron’s arms unravelled and formed the gauntlets that coated his arms, now lined with glowing red veins and dozens of spikes on his hands and forearm. Aaron laughed in utter joy as he threw the spikes into Blockbuster. It looked like Allard's skill with throwing knives had stuck around. But most were barely piercing through the rocky skin of Desmond, and what little damage he did with the blades that got through was swiftly regenerated… Didn’t mean he gave up, still trying to get as much biomass into Desmond as he could. Desmond rushed at him, grabbing his head in a single movement as he squeezed down as he dragged Aaron to the base of a pillar, smashing through the stone, as the boy cried out obscenities as the pillar collapsed down on him. 

Robin threw a few bird shaped Shuriken at Desmond, but he knocked them away before seeing Superboy running at him, so he tackled the boy of steel into a pillar. With his newest disappointment trapped between a rock and the hard place of his fists, Desmond began to wildly swing his heavy fits into the young clone. He dodged the first hit, however barely, but was stunned by the second fist that swung over Desmond's head and smashed him into the ground. With the newest object of his infinite disdain for failure pinned down, the creature that was once Dr Desmond roared into the air and began to rapidly beat down onto Superboy.

Aaron shook his head. "What hit me?" He asked feeling out of it. He blinked away the blurred vision as his concussion cleared up, “Oh yeah. It was Desmond!” He looked at the feral scientist, and grinned viciously, “Hello lifetimes worth of revenge.”

Seeing Superboy in trouble, Aqualad wrapped water around Desmond’s arm and pulled him forward before making a Mace out of water, but Desmond grabbed the mace and threw Aqualad across the room. With that he threw Superboy at Robin and stomped menacingly towards Aqualad, but Kid Flash came in with his super speed, but Desmond leaned back and tripped Kid Flash, causing him to skid across the floor in pain.

"Hey retard!" Aaron did a flip kick knocking Desmond back. "Leave them alone." Desmond turned and performed a mighty hammer blow to try and flatten him. Aaron merely used his Musclemass to deflect the blow and leap upwards to punch the not so good Doctor in the face. He then grabbed both sides of Desmond's head and stared him right in the eyes; before he used the Starheart to engulf his head in the eye beam. Eto licked her lips as she watched the surface layers of skin burn away to show the grey muscle beneath, eyes boiling away in their sockets as he screamed like a mad beast. God his screams made her feel so good.

Sadly, any continued sadism would be on hold until after Desmond blindly charged headfirst into another pillar causing the room to shake, and Aaron to leap away as the enraged fool roared at them in blind fury.

Robin gasped as he realized something. "Of course." He brought a holographic map of the room up. "KF, Aaron! Get over here right now!"

"What’s with the room plans? Now's no time to admire the decor." Aaron asked as he got to Robin as Kid Flash zoomed over.

"If we can make the building collapse we can beat him." He explained while Aqualad was using a small water shield to defend himself from Desmond’s onslaught of attacks, but it wouldn’t hold for long. "But I need Aqualad and Superboy for this, so you two need to be a distraction."

"I have an idea." Aaron ran over while Desmond was about to punch Superboy. "Oi, bankruptcy!" Desmond looked at the other rogue project, not even slowing down as he swung down and pinned the clone beneath his fist. 

"Yeah, I’m talking to you." He smirked. "You think you scare me? I’ve seen tougher guys than you at one of those neck beard conventions. Come to think of it I’ve seen Ken Dolls tougher than you. And I mean take your pick, mod-hair Ken, Disco Ken, Summer Fun Ken, ambiguously gay Ken?"  
Desmond roared and ran at Aaron as Kid Flash ran by grabbing the insane teen. 

"Nice insults." Kid Flash said with a chuckle. "I have to remember that one."

"You do that. But, I don't have a fare for this Uber, so bye." He said as Desmond chased them while Robin explained his plan to Superboy and Aqualad. After finishing, he leapt upwards and dashed through the air, releasing his stored air out behind him to accelerate, hitting Desmond with a Superman punch, using the brief moment of being staggered to snap out a follow up jab, with a large spike releasing from his fist, impaling the ‘good’ doctor's shoulder. Leaping back to the ground, he stood behind a pillar, holding out his right thumb. Desmond ran through a pillar to get him, but failed as Kid Flash had grabbed Aaron and rushed off before the rogue project could get flattened. "Sorry, try again." Kid Flash taunted.

"But you’ll always fail." Aaron joked, feeling immense pleasure at watching the man who had tormented him for years be reduced to a mindless brute. He especially loved watching his shoulder explode violently as the incinerate rune etched into the biomass in his shoulder activated and left his arm hanging uselessly by the tendons and cartilage that held the shoulder joint together. Even if the flesh bubbled and shifted to force the arm back to a functional position, Aaron still was satisfied as he saw how emaciated the arm was compared to before.

While they were doing that, Superboy and Aqualad took down two pillars, while Robin had attached explosives to the remaining ones before drawing a stylised ‘R’ on the floor where Aqualad sprayed with water and as Desmond ran by to get Kid Flash and Aaron, Superboy jumped up and falcon punched Blockbuster onto the water, where he slid right on the marble flooring until stopping on top of the ‘R’.

"And that's a wrap!" Robin shouted as all the Shuriken on the last remaining pillars detonated, causing the room to collapse as Superboy and Aqualad jumped over their two squishy friends while Aaron formed a large shield over his left arm to protect them. After a few seconds, the trio with super strength threw the debris off of them and they got out with torn costumes, or in Aaron’s case self repairing clothes, panting as they regained their breath.

"We-we did it." Aqualad panted with a smile.

Robin chuckled with a pant of his own. "Was there- ever any doubt?" He and Kid Flash high fived only to cringe from the pain of the force carrying along their arms.

"You may have doubted it, but I didn’t. Mostly.” Aaron lay on his back like a starfish before turning his head to see Superboy looking at the sky or in this case the moon. "More beautiful than the pictures, isn’t it." Superboy nodded in agreement.

"Told you we would show you the moon." Kid Flash joked before they saw a figure flying towards them and the others recognized it. "Oh, and Superman, do we keep our promises or what?"

As Superman flew down, many other members of the League came down, bringing with them any other members they could. Batman walked forward until he was standing next to Superman and they looked from the Sidekicks, to Blockbuster to Superboy and finally to Aaron before some of them cringed at his condition, with his black veins bulging just beneath the surface as he regenerated to his normal state.

But Superboy walked forward causing everyone to look at him, before he was in front of Superman who saw the S emblem on his chest causing his eyes to widen as Superboy smiled hopefully, but the Man of Steel frowned as if he was disappointed, causing Superboy to back up a bit.

"Is that what I think it is?" Batman asked Superman.

Kid Flash walked forward, stage whispering behind his hand. "He doesn’t like to be called an it."

"I’m Superman’s clone!" Superboy confessed making most of the Leaguers stare in disbelief before Batman narrowed his eyes at the three sidekicks.

"Start talking." He ordered.

After a long explanation which raised more questions than answers they all started talking while the teens were by themselves and Superboy glared at the ground. Most of the flyers took off with Blockbuster and Scarecrow being carried by both Green Lanterns.

Some of the League were giving Aaron suspicious looks when they learned that he was created to potentially kill them, but he didn’t care as he waited with the others. "Hey Supes, you alright?"

"What do you think?" Superboy asked bitterly.

"Hey at least your old man’s a hero." Aaron said with a chuckle. "Mine is a complete stranger who probably sold me to Cadmus for a fat paycheck. Thinking about it, you have what is the tactical nuke of who's dad can beat up all the other dads."

"I think what Aaron’s trying to say, is that it will be fine. Batman's known Superman for years, so just give it time." Robin promised Superboy as the guy looked towards Superman who was talking to Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter.

Martian Manhunter saw Superboy looking at them and said something to Superman causing him to look over, but the young Kryptonian looked away.

Superman sighed and walked over. "We’ll um… We’ll figure something out for you- the League will I mean… For now, I better make sure that they get that Blockbuster creature squared away." With that he took off flying causing Mac to quietly snort in laughter at how poorly that went.

As they stared after Superman’s retreating form, Batman walked up with Flash and Aquaman. "Cadmus will be investigated, all Fifty-Two levels. But let’s make one thing clear-"

Flash interrupted Batman. "You should’ve called!"

Narrowing his eyes Batman looked at the young group as he tried not to glare at Flash. "End results aside we’re not happy! You hacked Justice League Systems, endangered civilian lives and disobeyed direct orders! You will not be doing this again!"

‘Someone has a stick up their ass.’ Aaron nearly snorted in laughter at his stray thoughts. He turned on his heel and looked away, thinking of the million other things he'd rather be doing than associate with people who'd kill him when he proved too inconvenient to keep alive.

The others all looked at each other, before Aqualad stepped forward. "I am sorry, but we will."

"Aqualad, stand down." Aquaman ordered sternly.

Aqualad bowed his head apologetically. "Apologies my King… But no." Everyone stared at that as Aqualad continued. "We did good work here tonight. The work you trained us to do, together on our own we forged something powerful. Important." Looking around, Aaron was glad that they were sticking up for him. He still committed to his choice and turned away.

"If this is about your treatment at the hall, the three of you-." Flash began but Kid Flash cut his mentor off.

"The five of us and it’s not."

Robin walked forward. "Batman we’re ready to use what you taught us. Or what is the point of us fighting at all?" He asked his mentor. Superboy merely scoffed. 

"Why let them tell us what to do?" He asked glaring at them; it was obvious that he was bitter at Superman’s reaction towards him. "It’s simple, get on board or get out of the way."

With that all four of them stared at the League before Batman narrowed his eyes again. "Give me three days."

"… Three days isn’t so bad." Kid Flash muttered as they all looked at each other before they each walked to their respective mentors, but Robin stopped.

"Uh guys." He looked back at Superboy who was glaring at the ground again, and the empty space where Aaron used to be sitting. Superboy looked at them and explained what had happened. 

“He walked away while we were talking to the League. He's good at disappearing, I can't hear him at all.”

Kid Flash looked at the clone before smiling. "Hey Supes! How about you come with me? Let's give the area a look around and see if we can find our wayward friend." 

As the Boy of Steel began to walk away with Kid Flash asking questions of what normal people things were like, Martian Manhunter approached Batman.

"I could not completely access his mind." He said referring to Aaron. "It’s as if there is a constant static preventing any unpermitted access, preventing me from picking him out from the background unless I actively focus on him. And what little I could glean reminded me of you."

Batman narrowed his eyes, because now there’s no way to know if he had a hidden programming or not. ‘I’ll have to keep an eye on him.’ He thought before leaving to go back to Gotham. He also thought on what J'onn said at the end. And the implications it had for the boy's sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Hate it? Let me know what you think. I am curious as to what the people reading this think about it. And I'll try to respond to anything that isn't too Spoilery.


	5. Chapter 5: The More Things Change...

You had some crazy fuckers asking for rooms in Gotham. Iron-Jawed Eddie had gotten everyone from Wall Street racketeers to actual drug dealers trying to con their way into two-room apartments, and over time he’d learned that the more scratch the guy could throw out up front the bigger the risk was for accidentally losing a floor to either a lab explosion, forcible FBI entry, a week of decontamination from a swinger’s party, or (in one memorable case) an actual superhero fight between a creepy guy who’d seen way too many action movies and _the_ Batman.

Being a landlord in a city with this many gangs and super powered nut jobs took guts, but there was shit you could do to make the burden take less of a toll.

Supervillains may have been qualified as acts of God by most insurance companies, but St Cloud Insurance sure made things easier to deal with. Their insurance plans were expensive, obscenely so, and every time Eddie sent the cheque with too many zeroes off to their offices he felt the old war souvenirs burn in agony.

They were good for it though, covering everything from busted pipes due to an ill thought out scheme to steal the copper in his building, all the way to a certain someone driving a god damn tank over an apartment building as a fucking attack helicopter shot rockets down over Gotham. They’d paid out with minimum fuss when Eddie filed his claim, and they’d also helped him find a new building in the aftermath of what the media had called the Long Halloween. They were also one of the few firms that actually funded places like Blackgate, too, and Eddie figured that every dollar he sent their way helped make the city just a little bit safer.

When people pushed Eddie, he pushed back. Owning guns was risky here- you didn’t want to escalate to the point where you were to much of a risk alive, or get the Bat's attention as anything more than a victim- but you could make it work, something that the street thugs Falcone sent after him (the sleaze ball) had learned only after one of them was on the ground. He didn’t die, but the buckshot and rock salt in his legs made damn sure the point had been understood. Eddie also kept some of the more violent guys he’d known on speed-dial in case someone tried to send tougher muscle after him, without even counting who his guests were and what they could do, and while nothing had escalated that far yet, Mama Lyozi didn’t raise no fool. Batman wasn’t always around, and the GCPD would be minutes away when seconds matter. The few who wouldn’t join in the beating.

And while he had some tricks up his sleeve after his service that meant he’d walk off whatever they did, he couldn’t be sure about a lot of his guests being able to shrug off what would happen. Physically or mentally. With the kind of crowd he had gotten here, they’d live. But he didn’t want to see what they had to be pushed to do to survive in this hellhole.

The last thing Eddie did to minimize risk was screening his tenants. Everyone did that, sure, but the exact process varied a whole damn lot between different landlords. Finance was the big one, yeah, and you had to have some references, but there were also the little things. Eddie knew a guy who cyber-stalked people for days to get a sense of what they’d be like for him, while another woman was so good at cold reading that she could figure an indoor smoker in a five second silence- as he’d been loath to find out.

It didn’t always work of course. There was the legit Supervillain who was able to read him like a book and prey on his bleeding heart to get a room. Spinning a cockamamie tale about being a victim of profiling who’d been blacklisted because his parents were gunned down by the GCPD. But fool me once and all that.

Eddie himself didn’t have anything that off-the-wall, but over time he’d figured out how to make people uncomfortable. It wasn’t something he liked to do, but when you had a few dozen vulnerable people living in your building that came with responsibilities. Part of that was keeping nut jobs from coming into his people’s homes and hurting them. That took precedence over everything else, and if for one second he thought someone was trouble the meeting ended and they left. Full stop. Sometimes that cost him potential profit. Sometimes it kept a dangerous individual from taking up residence in the fourth floor corner-room again.

Eddie had chosen to err on the side of caution after that.

Part of that was not letting random strangers loiter around your lobby. Not when they wore a heavy black trench coat that fell down to their calves, covered their face with dark bandages over the face and Aviator shades, and had spent the past hour staring out the window at the pouring rain while muttering to themselves nearly non-stop. He’d even gone so far as to keep tapping out some kinda, Morse code style beat on the glass coffee table. At least they were more finely dressed than the last time some trench coat wearing asshole came by, what with the two piece suit he wore. Although it was more that they looked dishevelled than refined, what with all the creases, stitches, loose seams and the unbuttoned collar with no tie.

Yeah. This was clearly bad news in a city where the local Criminal Asylum was less secure than a wet paper bag.

“Hey,” he said, pitching the word at just louder than technically appropriate for an indoor space.

The figure turned towards him. Eddie jerked his thumb at the door. “This is private property. Unless you’re visiting someone, I’mma have to ask you to leave.”

“What if I told you I was looking for residence?” The words were high and young, kind of like the college students who occasionally tried to slip their ages past him. But lacking the naivety common to them. Accent was weird though, like that radio show or whatever, downtown Abbey. Kid definitely wasn’t a local, but that didn’t explain why an out of town kid would come to the bad side of Gotham. Whatever answers there were, Eddie knew he wouldn’t like them.

“Then I’d tell you to get online and apply. We’ve got an ad on Indeed, and you can wait for call backs just like anyone else.” Kids these days. Computers there to make their lives easier and they choose not to use it to make things difficult. “Now. Get out.”

The figure snapped a finger gun at him, treating this almost like a joke. “Funny story, but I can’t use a computer. Or have a friend to mooch off of. Or any species of paper information necessary to acquire anything at all.” Eddie raised an eyebrow at that, putting a hand in easy reach of his side arm.

“Pretty sure I can’t trust you. If you don't have any of those identity papers, I’m not sure how you’re gonna to fill out tax forms or the residency papers.” Eddie slowly walked towards the guy. He was almost as tall as him, a lean 6ft, but that was nothing new. If push came to shove Eddie was more than two hundred pounds of grizzled Gotham veteran, and he had one hand in his pocket on a 12Ga derringer if things went really wrong.

“Third time's the charm. Get out of my building.” he said quietly, looking into the shades as calmly as he could.

Exactly as slowly as he’d moved into point blank range, the kid reached up a gloved hand and took off their glasses and began to unwrap the bandages around his face, stopping Eddie in his tracks.

After Eddie got a good look, he put them back on. “I got recommended this place by a guy named Elliot, Elliot Caldwell, who said that you’d understand what I was going through. He told me that if I could pay, I could eat, and maybe I could snag his place if I was lucky. I've got people who _will_ kill me if they catch me, and I’ve heard you have a soft spot for runaways like me.”

He chuckled a little bit, expression unreadable behind the layers of fleece and plastic. “If you want me gone though, I’m gone. Man’s got to have his principles and I’ve got no right to make you compromise on them.”

After a long sigh, Eddie took his hand out of his pocket and motioned towards his combination room and office at the end of the hall. “I’m gonna eat dinner. You can join me. First meal’s on the house, and same with the first night. After that you do what needs doing, and pay for your keep. If you can’t, you find somewhere else to stay. Understand?”

Footsteps echoed behind him. “Good sir, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“My name’s Eddie, no it’s not, and you’re going to pay that deposit in full by tomorrow or your ass is on the streets,” he replied, fumbling for the keys to his door. Maybe Elliot could be trusted to look after his own skin, but if the bastard thought that he could manipulate him, cause thousands in insurance, disappear for a few months and suddenly foist a charity case onto him, then by God he’d make the kid pay out of their hide to cover the bullshit fee.

xXx July 7 xXx

It had been hilarious, in a mundane way. Aaron knew that Batman was going to be looking for him- and yet he'd spent several days in Gotham and hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Caped Crusader. Granted, Bats was looking for a fifteen year old Indian male, not a twelve year old girl who looked like a dead ringer for Wednesday Adams, but the point still stood. He’d shapeshifted in enough dark alleys for the guy to catch him, and nothing happened. What a let down.

It was definitely cheating to shapeshift, but he liked to think that it was nothing more than the appropriate measures for a man who would make the PATRIOT act look like a jealous boyfriend stalking his girlfriend for fear of infidelity. There could be no room for error when facing against Batman, the nigh infinite resources of Wayne Enterprises, and Brother Eye, or there was only guaranteed defeat.

He had just finished purchasing the materials needed to make his very own conspiracy pin-board, as a way to try to hunt down and utterly erase the sins of Cadmus from the world, purging them so thoroughly that not even a memory of them remained, when the landline began ringing.

“Henderson's Morgue. You stab ‘em, we slab ‘em. Eight Ball speaking.” A wry chuckle came across the line, a raspy, wise voice responding to his immature mockery.

“Come now DX1118-C, is this how you speak to all of your former employers.” If Aaron still had blood, it would have run cold as the realisation of who was talking to him. Oh yes, he was well acquainted with the man on the phone. And the evil that had been done in his name.

“Ra's Al Ghul, the mighty Head of the Demon. To what do I owe this conversation?” The head of the demon merely chuckled once more.

“Let us be truthful, I am in need of your services. I need you to kill a miss Selena Gonzales.” Aaron merely frowned and glared slightly at the phone.

“And why should I do such a thing for you?”

“Because I'm offering you $300,000 I’ve hidden in a locker at Penn Station to kill one of the financial backers of Cadmus.” The eyes of DX1118-C narrowed as their pupils dilated to needle points. A silence stretched on for several long moments as they began to understand just what Ra's was offering and why they were required.

“When, where, who.” Ra's smirked on the other end, celebrating his small victory at confirming his suspicions at the best way to attract the rogue project's attention.

“Two days from now on the 9th, you will meet with two of my disciples who shall aid you in this task, and as I mentioned before Selena Gonzales, CEO of Farano Enterprises.” CLICK. The blank eyes returned and DX1118-C prepared for use.


	6. Chapter 6: ...The More They Stay the Same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All, what an eventful few months it has been. Granted, mine has been filled with a steady decline of basically everything I like and my life almost falling apart on several occasions. But hey, I’m still standing, and I can finally get out this slightly edited version that I think is at least somewhat better than the original version. Sorry you had to wait so long, hopefully the next update isn’t too far off.

**Hello All, what an eventful few months it has been. Granted, mine has been filled with a steady decline of basically everything I like and my life almost falling apart on several occasions. But hey, I’m still standing, and I can finally get out this slightly edited version that I think is at least somewhat better than the original version. Sorry you had to wait so long, hopefully the next update isn’t too far off.**

**xXx July 9 xXx**

  


It was angry. It hungered for death. It needed vengeance. No. No, he wanted revenge. _He_ did. Not it. Never again _it_. Aaron focused on the window, watching as the soon to be late miss Gonzales continued working long after the janitorial staff cleared out. He could see that she was going over some documents most likely regarding a withdrawal of funding for Cadmus, the coward. She probably didn't even care about what they did to it. Miss Gonzales must believe that if she cuts ties now it exonerates her of her sins. _Not that they would let her escape justice._

  


Benjamin Turner. Mikhail Arkadin. Kent Allard. These men were paragons of moral virtue and character. Hunting through the Jungles of his old home to find and rout the Shadows. Doing... some slightly questionable actions to uphold the flag he held dear to him, but never breaking his moral virtues in the process. Serving his country in a war by hunting her enemies across the globe, and even hunting those who escaped in the peace time, never allowing them to flee from the punishment of their sins. Now, he’d eaten all three of these men. He had their memories and morals within him. Their integrity and character, which directed his moral compass down the righteous path.

  


And Aaron did not give a fucking damn about that.

  


None of it mattered. All that mattered was that Aaron would fulfil his purpose. He would kill, and it would be on his terms. He watched his target and was moments away from giving the office the Jackson Pollock make over when he heard two people land on the roof behind him.

  


“Damn kid, that is a swanky get up. But, it’s a bit cold out for any fashion statements?” Well, it certainly paid to be highly exothermic. Since it meant Aaron could get away with stealing from the legendary Alexander McQueen, and strutting around town in some dress pants and that lovely Jack the Ripper coat. Sure, he got more than a few odd looks with the bloodstained pattern that soaked the white coat, and the barbed wire design that replaced the traditional pinstripe. But this was Gotham. People wore weird stuff all the time. Even if his entire face was wrapped up in suspiciously red and white bandages, and he was holding the bastard child of a sniper rifle and am anti material rifle.

  


... He still wondered when exactly he ate one of those.

  


“It’s a bit like that old saying. Beauty is worth sacrifice.” He turned to see who was addressing him. And how little ground they had to stand on in regards to clothing choices.

  


The figure on the right, in a slight acrobat's stance, was dressed in a black and red costume that should have gotten copyright lawyers up in arms. This was the agile arachnid assassin, Black Spider. His friend wasn't anything special for the most part. Just a bulky guy in a black fisherman’s coat. What truly set him apart was the dirty blond hair that hung around his neck, and the pneumatic cannon with a large hook loaded and prepped that he had for a right arm. This pirate looking fool was the appropriately named Hook.

  


“Good evening to you both, gentleman. I was beginning to suspect that Ra's was misleading me when he said that I would meet my assistants. Heh, I was afraid that the years were finally catching up to the old boy.” His casual dismissal of their lord and master infuriated both of them. But while Black Spider was insulted by the casual nature of his insults regarding his employer and by extension him, Hook was taking it much more seriously as a devout Shadow would. He was about to rush forward before he was held back by

  


“You insolent dog! How dare you insult the Great Master!” Aaron merely thinned out his fingernails to a fine edge and stood straight.

  


“Oh? Have I touched a nerve for the madman who uses such an outdated weapon as a hook? I would say that your choice of tool is a greater insult to Mr Al Ghul, _but I doubt you have enough brain cells to actually understand me_.” Before Hook could commit to his usual response of shooting his weapon into them and carving them open, Black Spider stepped in between them and held his hands up.

  


“Now, now,” he waved his hands between them so as to get their attention, “we are all on the same side here. We’re supposed to kill the mark, not each other. Let’s stay out of each other’s way, kill the lady, and go for the jugular _after_ you get her jugular. Hook, you look around and deal with any wannabe heroes. Kid, stay up here and keep an eye out for anything. Is that good enough for you two?” They glared daggers at each other- or rather, Hook glared while Aaron examined his longer and sharper nails and changed their colours in amusement- before grumbling their agreement.

  


“...Fine”

  


“ _So long as the buffoon stays out of my way,_ I will hold no grievances against him.”

  


As the Black Spider leapt acrobatically across the street dividing the buildings, launching a web to the building so he could more easily bleed off the momentum and reach his target, he missed his fellows share one last disagreement. Hook glared at Aaron as he walked away, shooting one last remark as he went to serve his master’s will.

  


“It is no surprise that you have no knowledge of the Great Master’s might and superiority over you. Even still, an ignorant beast will always bow to its superiors.” Aaron took a moment to process what Hook had said before he burst out laughing.

  


“It is funny,” He said, not even bothering to turn away as he stared down the bastard child of a cannon and an anti-material rifle at the office, “I think that the only ignorant beast here is the one who dishonours his master with an inefficient tool.” There was no response as Hook had already left after getting the last word in for the argument.

  


When he realised he’d been had a few seconds later, Aaron merely cursed and slammed his fist into the tiles, cracking them, before he returned his attention to the target, grumbling under his breath the whole time. “Fisherman looking bastard thinks he can get one over on me, I’ll damn well show him.”

  


They should have plenty of time to mock and belittle him, on such a simple and routine job.

  


xXx 5 minutes later xXx

  


Aaron peered through the scope and stared at the very much _not_ simple and routine scene before him. The job was all but done. Ms Gonzales was at the mercy of the other two, and three sidekicks who were up past their bedtimes and very much not where they should be were tied upside in the office and indisposed, at the mercy of two ruthless assassins. And here he was, with a luxury seat to watch the whole thing unfold. He would also have to stand by and watch as they killed his friends. But if his friends were freed, then they would try their best to stop him. But he couldn’t allow anyone to stop him from getting his revenge. But he would never disgrace the debt he owed them.

  


Aaron growled at the air. Why did free will have to be so difficult? And why did circumstances have to be so irritating that he couldn’t just kill her... and not... be... caught... Oh. “I guess it wasn’t so difficult, huh. _Of course, it wasn’t dumbass, you just had to be difficult about things_.”

  


Aaron looked down at his rifle and smiled with regret. “Another time, perhaps.” Before his arm unravelled into dozens of tentacles that dismantled and swallowed his rifle, while he watched Hook aim the pneumatic cannon at Robin’s head. That wouldn’t do at all. Aiming his most reliable weapon, himself, he tapped against his palm impatiently, as his legs bulged and rippled with muscles of black and red. As he entered a sprinter’s stance, he prepared to save his friends as they’d saved him.

  


xXx

  


Robin rushed his hands to try and use the small saw blade in his belt buckle to free himself from the ropes. He had nearly done it, but it would take time that they didn’t have anymore. Not with that giant hook pointed at his face.

  


Darn it, Dick knew that if Bruce was tied up like this, he’d have already gotten out and been kicking butt. He could already hear the lecture on “training your lock picking, because it is a most valuable and versatile tool, blah, blah, blah,” whatever. He was keeping an eye on their two captors, waiting for an opportunity to escape.

  


“Dammit, didn’t want to get any attention on a simple job like this. How are we meant to handle having these brats here without the wrath of God getting us both?” Black Spider groaned into his hands. “This is why I hate kids!”

  


“Hush Spider, I’m dealing with the interlopers. Consider yourselves honoured you unworthy, for in death you shall serve the Great Master.” As he pointed the arm at Robin’s head and prepared to fire, Dick rushed to think of anything he could say to stall for time. Anything at all.

  


“Hey, before you kill us, don’t you want to know your mistake? Or next time your ‘Great Master’ will be displeased with your failure.” Hook froze and marched over with heavy footsteps, while Black Spider merely stood in the background and pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling irritably to himself.

  


“Not again. Dammit, why is he always like this?” Ignoring his partner, Hook dug the edge of his blade into Robin’s neck, a few drops of blood spilling out as the zealot stared Dick dead in the eyes.

  


“Speak insolent bird. How am I failing the will of the Great Master?” Apparently failing to get the memo to stop putting his foot in it, Kid Flash opened his mouth and snarled at the dangerous, fanatical assassin.

  


“Maybe you smelling like a hobo on the beach offends his senses. Ever heard of Axe?” Hook had a most refined and dignified response to this. He smacked the blunt side of the Hook in between KF's eyes, and grabbed the top of his head in his left hand, squeezing it too the maximum amount he could before placing the blade to Wally's neck.

  


“Speak heretic, or your fellow will suffer for his transgressions against the Great Master sooner rather than later.” Dick tested the strength of his bonds and saw how weak they were. Realising that this was his best chance, he nudged both Kid Flash and Aqualad to get their attention, and prepared a witty one liner.

  


“Well unlike the TSA, you forget to check for my belt.” As Hook blinked in confusion and Black Spider in realisation a moment too late, Robin’s immediate escape attempt was aided as the sound of shattering glass and the shearing of metal rang out, as a blur tackled Hook away from them.

  


As Robin tore the weakened ropes apart and helped Kid Flash to his feet, he looked to see what happened. A new figure had joined the fight, clad in a only a long coat and black jeans. The coat left his chest open to view, at the brown skin covered in black, vein like, tattoos. Their face was obscured by bloodstained bandages across their entire face, only showing a slight indent and orange glow around their eyes, and loose, stray strands of black hair that stuck out through the bandages. Their right hand was covered in a thick black armour, holding a large chunk of metal that they crushed into scrap.

  


Hook was staring at his hand in a daze, or what was left of it. The titular hook had been torn, the metal bent and shredded leaving only a small, sharpened piece of metal. The new arrival had also torn away part of the external shell, showing the long, wound up length of chain he used, as well as several components of his damaged pneumatic canon. The assassin raised his arm in shock as he stared at the twisted metal in a daze. He considered the arm to be a gift from Ra's Al Ghul for his devoted service, considering even the slightest scratch to be an unforgivable transgression against his Great Master.

  


“You... dare. You dare. YOU DARE DESTROY HIS BOON TO ME!” Hook was frothing at the mouth with rage. With a great roar, he rushed at the stranger, only to find himself the victim of a barrage of super speed punches to the jaw, Wally taking the chance to get payback. As Hook was forced on the defensive, Aqualad used his Water Bearers to knock back Black Spider while the assassin was distracted, taking charge of the situation.

  


“Robin, with me. Kid Flash, keep him busy. New guy, Miss Gonzales, try to get out while we keep them busy.”

  


Hook was opposed to this. He roared with fury and smashed a desk next to him, before grabbing the larger piece and throwing it at Selena, forcing Kid Flash to rush over and grab the projectile. This left him open for a tackle from Hook, who knocked him the ground and held his broken blade over KF's face, pushing down furiously in the hope of stabbing him. The jagged metal kept going closer and closer until it was scratching the surface of his mask just above his eyes.

  


Hook was just moments away from throwing all of his weight into one final stab, before Robin jumped and grabbed his neck in between his arms to try and choke him out. Hook was forced to stand, grasping and clutching at Robin’s arms, before rushing back first into a wall to try and dislodge him. This simply gave Wally the chance to get enough leverage to run into a slide that sent Hook face first into a desk. He was dazed and left free for their new friend to take over, armour coated hands grabbing both sides of Hook's head and holding him tight as he slammed his forehead into Hook's nose, knocking him out with a thick crunch of cartilage and bone.

  


“Goddamn this job.” Black Spider was not taking the turn of fortune well, and began shooting webs everywhere, motivating their new friend to take their advice to heart and had rushed over to the broken window, grabbing the CEO and holding her close to his chest, and leaping out into the night. Robin hoped the guy hadn’t overestimated his skills and that they hadn’t failed.

  


They had landed on the street with a mighty crash, shattering the concrete beneath impossibly dense feet. Selena leapt out of her mysterious saviour’s arms and began to run down the street to whatever safety she could find. She’d barely made it ten paces before a claw like thing grabbed her by the throat and dragged her away. She felt the air rush past her as the thing around her neck rocketed her away, coming to a stop in a dimly lit alleyway across from the building, her body aching from the sheer force she had undergone in her trip.

  


She felt the pressure on her neck loosen before she fell to the ground in a lump. Blinking away the blur from her eyes, Selena stared at the one who dragged her here, and must have incapacitated her rescuer. They were slim, and tall, an even 7ft that glared down at her with an unnatural hatred in unnatural, orange eyes. Any more than that was impossible to observe because they were almost physically one with the shadows, their entire body enshrouded within an impossible blackness.

  


“Miss Selena Gonzales.” He, and it was definitely a he with a voice as deep as that, was practically spitting out the words as if it was physically difficult for him to speak them, “you were one of several businesses that has been funding Cadmus Labs for 8 years the coming September. _It was a tax write off but you did it to claim a desire to help the people_.” As he said Cadmus something must’ve happened to him as his voice took on a more effeminate tone, reminiscent of a teenage girl. He also seemed to shiver at that, with _something_ moving around in the shadows behind him. Selena blinked as she realised what this was about.

  


“Are you from Cadmus, is this because I’m cutting my funding?” The figure bristled at that, before straightening their back and running both hands down their front to smooth out any creases.

  


“Yes.” She smiled, seeing a way to get out of this alive.

  


“Look, if you want, I’ll cancel the order. In fact, I’ll double, no triple the funding. Is that what you want?” The figure just stood still for a moment, before their arm stretched further than it should have and grabbed her neck, slamming her back into the bricks behind her. She choked and futilely began to slap and claw at the limb crushing her throat.

  


“It is precisely because you cut funding that we are here. Because you assumed that stopping payment exonerated you from your sins. You thought the wrongs you inflicted upon us could be forgotten and must now pay.” The figure let go and watched her slide down. “you are so pathetic. Mewling pitifully as you try to change your fate, a helpless victim to those above you to the bitter end.” They leaned forward out of the shadows and she looked deep into a pair of burning orange eyes, and she saw only death. They threw her to the wet concrete below and she watched as their right arm bulges and swelled, taking on a metallic sheen before it thinned out and formed a vicious needle blade that was held centimetres above her eyes.

  


“You will repay your debt for what you did to us.” And with that, they raised their blade, her fear-stricken face reflected in its edge, with Aaron’s orange eyes staring parallel in the image.

  


xXx

  


_Selena Gonzales was lazing about in the summer sun, soaking up the fresh tan as she reclined in the warm sand. It was a perfect day, with a cool breeze and a lovely view of the sun rising over the water. She slowly sipped from a coconut cup, idly playing with the mini umbrella as she enjoyed the Pina Colada. Right now, she couldn’t feel any more at peace with the world. All was right in her little slice of paradise. The only thing that was left to do before enjoying more of her “recovery trip” was to make a single phone call and get a contract edited._

  


RING-RING-RING-RING-RING _CLICK_

  


“Ah, hello there DX1118-C. I was just about to call you and congratulate you on a job well done. I just heard the news of Miss Gonzales taking a trip to recover from the assassination ‘attempt’. Thank you for being so ready to do the deed that you also managed to cover up any trace of our involvement.” Aaron sighed in frustration, pushing up sunglasses to hide the orange glow in her eyes, and wrapping up in a towel to cover any lapses in control.

  


“The job is done, and I have ensured that there will be no investigation into her death for some time, as she will soon go missing later today. The implication being she has gone on a private sabbatical and won’t be making an appearance any time soon.” Ra's merely chuckled at his attitude.

  


“And that is precisely why I hired you. That wonderful talent of yours. The money isn’t actually in New York. Simply go to Gotham Municipal Bank and request that you be allowed to view the account of your mentor and employer, Henri Ducard. If you claim to be a mister Cole Cash, you will be allowed to view it.” Ra's was about to hang up, before thinking better of it and placing the phone back to his ear.

  


“By the way, I will be recommending your services to several other friends of mine, and calling this number again later in the future. If you do well enough, I can even give you the names of the ones who got away. Ones who had left and had all mentioning of their names censored from the project files.”

  


“I have served. And I will be of service. I just ask that you cover my return trip later today.” Ra's merely responded with a dial tone. Aaron merely smirked, a spark of bitter spite in his eyes.

  


“And so it begins.” Soon, he would have his revenge. And after that day, he would finally be free to enjoy these holidays as much as he wants. First though, he had to see if freedom did feel like water, and if there was something special about this tropical beach water.

  


**Better late than never, huh? I did say I would come back to fix this eventually. Anyway, hopefully I’ll be seeing you guys sooner rather than later. Also, Mac Marshall was the military commander in the suit that you consume after he blows up your apartment with you inside in I think the second or third mission in PROTOTYPE 1. I always liked him because despite the suit, he still counts as a military disguise.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my timing is absolutely atrocious. I got this chapter out incredibly late and I am going to be a while longer for the next one. Also, consider the previous chapter to be... tenuously canon. Everything that happened will stay the same in the broad strokes, I just want to redo it after having fixed the very clear issues I had with writing the fight scene.


	7. Chapter 7: Making Friends... Eventually

**I don’t own Young Justice, or I would have already seen Season 3.**

**xXx August 3, 12:28. Gotham, Dead End motel. xXx**

“As much as I like meeting new people, I hate that you’re making me move all this furniture around.” As he was currently in the process of singlehandedly manoeuvring a sofa through a doorway, Aaron felt the complaint was well warranted.

“Oh, quit your whining already. If you get this done sooner, there’s an Italian dinner in it for you.” Finally getting the second arm rest through the doorway, he looked at the speaker. She was tall for a fifteen year old girl, about 5’10” and had stunningly white hair that reached down to her shoulder blades. She was also a lot broader and more muscular than most would expect one to be, and had clearly seen many things a young girl shouldn’t have, given the leather eye patch over her left eye. If it weren’t for laziness as she foisted the job onto him, Aaron would bet good money that she could’ve done this alone, let alone with the help of her brothers.

“Can’t blame him, Rose. That sofa weighs like ten tonnes. Still convinced Ma hid gold bars in that sofa with how heavy the damn thing is.” Coming down the hallway now, climbing the stairs with a large fridge because everything had to be a work out with him, was her much broader and even more muscular brother, barely hiding any of his muscles behind a white vest top that meant the steel dog tags stood out even more. The guy towered over him, almost reaching seven feet in height, and would’ve been intimidating to a human being in his situation, what with the piercing blue eyes, the strongly set jawline, and the close trimmed buzz cut of blonde hair.

As he watched this Adonis casually move heavy machine of metal through a space where no mortal man could get a secure grip to leverage their full strength, he started to get curios. Aaron wasn’t sure what his parents had fed this guy to get a diet Captain America, but he wanted a taste of it asap. It was hard enough not to just tap the source directly for a taste there and then, but he could not afford that attention right now.

“If I’m carrying around secret gold, I demand compensation. I deserve at least two gold bars for my troubles.” Rose didn’t even look at him over the top of her magazine about some sort of celebrity drama.

“You get two Italian dinners and a standing offer to sit on this couch whenever you visit.”

“Close enough for me.” And with that close to the conversation, he finally managed to reach the open space and set the sofa down. “Now about those dinners, how calorie heavy can I expect it to be? I’m hoping the answer is “very”, but I’ll accept “quite".” Grant merely laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, not even flinching despite not moving Aaron an inch.

“With how skinny you are, you’re gonna need everything you can get to avoid looking like a twig.” Aaron merely responded by returning the favour, and doing his best to hide his surprise when his mildly forceful pat didn’t even move Grant a millimetre. There was definitely something interesting to these siblings, something that would prove very important in time he hoped.

“Better a twig than an unsightly behemoth. Tell me Grant, where’d you get the protein for those muscles? Gobbling up small children whole?” Grant took the small glare and bitter remarks in stride, laughing at them with his new friend, dramatically putting a hand to his heart

“That ain’t how I do it, scout’s honour. If you were talking about messing with them though, well that’s a different story.” As he spoke a young blond boy in a turtleneck sweater, probably no more than 12 or 13, stepped into the room carrying a box of assorted action figures and Lego sets in one hand, and a suitcase heavily adorned with the iconography of Superman, most likely from one of the those cartoons about him.

You never really think of how much a person’s image can be exploited when they are highly famous but have no legal protections on their name. Apparently, there was some legislation in the works to change how that would work, but good luck getting that past the American government. Regardless of our biological abomination’s musings on copyright and exploitation, Rose was more interested in her brother.

“Look who it is, mister boy scout himself. You took a while to get up here Joe.” The boy opened his mouth for a moment before closing it and looking down at the floor. Grant quickly moved to take everything from the boy to free his hands, leading to a the boy moving his hand to try and quickly “speak", small hands fumbling to convey a message that they barely knew how to say.

“Wow, calm down, what’s wrong?” Aaron, who had observed dispassionately as he subtly looked through the Lego sets in barely hidden jealousy, took the opportunity to interject.

“Considering that he was either trying to something about a weird or odd man, either using the term mathematics or just plain shaking his hands, and also calling him possibly a stranger - although his thumb should be to his chin at the end – then I presume he ran into mister Kuttler.” He saw their concerned looks and knew he needed to deescalate before anything happened that could draw the authorities, or worse Batman to this location.

”Don’t worry, nothing would have happened. If I’m right that its Kuttler, your brother was scared away from the man’s apartment by the excessive usage of mathematical techniques that even I find headache inducing. The bas... the _fellow_ has the nasty habit of not closing his door and leaving just an open view into a mathematicians equivalent to serial killer writing. Complete with the unstable muttering. Probably taking another crack at those four unsolvable equations he’s got left.” Rose sat back with a slight glower, resolving to wait for an opportunity to avenge this slight to appear, while Grant nodded in acceptance before processing an important fact.

“Wait, you know sign language?” Rose turned an inquisitive glare on him. Apparently he didn’t look like the sort who went out of their way to accommodate others, which was entirely true so he congratulated her deduction.

“I knew a guy who knew it. It’s come in handy since then.” She narrowed her eye at his answer, seeing something suspicious in his answer that he apparently hadn’t.

“What did I tell ya Rose? With neighbor’s like this guy, this’ll be a good place for us.” Rose merely turned away from him with a huff, keeping him firmly out of her blind spot.

He would have stuck around to keep up the banter, but could hear his landline ringing. “Yeah, good place and all that. I’ll give you a tour sometime, if you ask. If you’ll excuse me, I have some urgent business to attend to.”

Pushing his way past the 200 lbs of beefcake that smelled far more appetising than any dinners he made that didn’t include him, Aaron strode down the hall. Past the worn doors and peeled paint, and all the scars of history in the building that no amount of polish could erase.

Opening his room with a key that grew from his nail, the one Eddie left him somewhere in the clutter of trinkets he had made to keep his memories straight, he kicked the door shut behind him as he reached for the landline mobile. He cleared his throat as his throat rippled to sound sultrier and softer. That country singer he once ate, Lorene what’s her name, really was worth the hours he spent puking up all that gunk from the years of substance abuse.

“Hey there dirty boy, why’s a guy like you doing calling a naughty gal like me?” There was a quite but harsh mechanical scrapping as whoever had contacted him made their displeasure known.

“Is this the apartment for the Cadmus operative, Blacklight?” Aaron just sighed as he listened to the strained voice of the mysterious intellectual, his throat rippling and shifting back to normal.

“Ex Cadmus. But yes, this is he. I provide creative problem solving to any and all issues. If you could give me the details of your problem, your name, and a quote for whatever you’re willing to pay before negotiations, then we can make a start on sorting this all out, Mr...”

“You will have the privilege of calling me, Red Dynamo.” Despite the gravitas with which the client spoke, he remained irreverent.

“Ok then Mr Dynamo, what services can I provide for you today? Do you perhaps need a leak to be plugged? A thorn removed from your side? A source of great tension to be eased off?”

“There’s a set of packages I want you to collect from a STAR Labs transport tonight. I’ll send you the frequency for the tracker on the package, so you can collect them both during transit. Make sure to follow only these trackers, or you might get a fraudulent version from one of four other vans that are being watched by a member of the Justice League.” Aaron whistles at that, impressed at the level of detail he was getting.

“Damn, sounds like a hell of a job. Must be a pretty important package you’ve ordered. Well, courier services will cost you $2 million, damages and expenses pending.”

“You’ll get triple that if you bring me the android by the end of this week. Find it, or you will not be a fan of the consequences.” Our friendly neighbourhood abomination froze for a moment, looking in suspicion at the phone, before shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, our motto is customer satisfaction guaranteed, so I’ll be seeing you soon.” He placed the phone back onto the receiver and cut the call, opening his laptop to check the emails. “Something tells me that this is suspicious as fuck.”

Reading through the data he had received and forming a radio that he hid in his skull, he felt some vague recollections of information that belonged to him in another life. “Huh, Amazo? Yeah... I should’ve charged more.”

**xXx August 3, 21:00. Litchfield County, a road in the middle of nowhere. xXx**

Going by the little information he could piece together from the scrambled memories of the future he still recalled, he had been able to determine that one of the two vans would be travelling through here. If his memory served correctly, this would be the van with Robin and Superboy, which would make it a significantly easier target for him.

He could see just cresting over the hill in the distance was the van containing his prize, and he could distantly hear two motorcycles, meaning he had gambled correctly. He stepped out from the corn field he had hidden in, and stood tall in the middle of the road, arms out as he hoped to feel the van smash into his body as the metal crunched around him. Aaron would be disappointed however, As the van rapidly braked at the sight of a teenager in a weird, bloodstained coat and very bloody bandages standing in the middle of the road.

The two motorcycles overtook the van and moved to stop on opposite sides of him. He looked at Robin, watching as he typed a message out while calmly smirking at him and casually asking him the relevant questions.

“Hey buddy, haven’t seen you in a while. What are you doing out here?” Superboy ever the one to hate being out of the loop turned his fierce glare on Robin.

“You know this bozo?” Wow, that almost hurt his feelings. Robin however had felt worse glares and didn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, he helped out in saving that CEO, Miss Gonzales. Aqualad and I thought about giving some advice to the new guy, but he vanished before we could.” Turning back to the stranger he didn’t realise he knew, Robin continued. “Still waiting on an answer buddy, why are you loitering in the road?”

He couldn’t help but smirk behind his mask. “Waiting. For you.”

“Oh? Wanted to up make sure everyone feels the aster?” Before he could answer Robin, Superboy interrupted.

“How did you find us?” Seeing that this conversation would get him nowhere, he decided to forgo politeness for efficiency.

“Tracker in the cargo.” As both their eyes widened as they processed his less than benevolent intentions, he used the element of surprise and tackled Superboy off of his bike, his hands swelling to take on the shape of small boulders littered with small spikes.

He began pummelling the boy of steel, smashing him into the road as it cracked and shattered under the weight of the blows. Superboy retaliated, a wild blow catching Aaron in the chest and knocking him off and flying backwards. He got up in a roll, quickly shifting his arm into a shield as he saw the drone that had popped out of Robin’s bike release a red glow from its cannon before blasting a powerful laser at him. Aaron felt the hard flesh of his arm burn away in seconds, screaming in agony he did not feel through dead nerves. His trick worked, and Robin cut the laser in his kind weakness.

An opportunity like this would not be one to waste, as his right arm slimmed into a vicious thing, adorned with dozens of cruel spikes and topped with wickedly sharp talons, before swinging at the drone, arm stretching and whipping out like unnatural elastic, cleaving through tempered steel as if it wasn’t there. He looked over at Robin, watching him draw a pair of tonfa that crackled with a current stronger than the hands that wielded them. Strong enough to potentially stun him long enough for someone stronger to finish off.

“You shouldn’t have stopped. Should have burned until not even ash remained.” Robin simply smirked, confidence growing as Superboy walked to stand beside him, brushing rubble off to try and shrug off the bruising. His smirk widened especially as the STAR labs truck blitzed behind them, speeding down the road to try and escape the fight.

“There’s two of us and the truck is going to be gone soon. We’re feeling the aster while you’re just getting the disaster.” Superboy cracked his knuckles and spat on the ground to emphasise his glare, refusing to dignify him with a response.

“Your butchering of the English language aside, you made an incorrect assumption.” Robin didn’t even lose his smirk, even as he eavesdropped on the cries of the second team as a swarm of robot monkeys set on them, meaning he needed to work fast before Ivo got Amazo first. There was about a minute delay that would let him escape the M.O.N.Q.U.I bots if he did this right.

“Oh yeah, and what’s that tough guy?” He felt his leg muscles swell with thick, rippling fibres as he prepared to move.

“That I cannot escape you with ease.” And just like that, Aaron was cruising down the country road, 100mph and quickly gaining on his prize. The ease of his transportation compared to the distant sound of Superboy’s mighty leap or Robin’s rush of acceleration gave him a clear head start that he needed to use correctly. He could practically hear the bomb falling from above as he opened small vents through his back and dashed forward to barely dodge the small shockwave as the weight of a Kryptonian collided with the Earth. He smirked as he could hear Robin slamming on the brakes to avoid crashing into his teammate.

He lashed out with his whip like arm, stretching it the short distance left from the truck, blades burrowing and digging into the metal, before reeling himself over to his prey with ease. Standing on the small ledge behind the loading door, his arms shifted to his wretched claws and dug into the thin sheet, casually parting the steel and easily prying open the can to let him grab his delicious find.

Two guards desperately tried to open fire on him, the bullets lodging deep into his skin as he broke them down and digested them. One guard was launched out of the back with a punch to the back of the head that shattered his helmet and would leave him with a concussion and minor head trauma that could easily lead to a loss of higher functions if not treated quickly. The other was left with a fist sized dent in his chest armour that all but obliterated it, and would leave him with badly fractured ribs and lung damage that would eventually lead to a complete dependence on an artificial ventilator in a few years, if that really was the taste of cigarettes in the blood coughed onto his skin. Finally left alone, as the goody two shoes behind him would have to save the guards, he pried open his prize. The torso and head of Amazo, while the other crate under it presumably held his arms.

“This was certainly almost too easy.” He twisted his fingers to stretch and shift into dozens of thin tentacles, reaching into the skull and the chest with delicate precision to remove the trackers he was still hearing that annoying frequency from, crushing them to safeguard his claim.

Sealing the crates back up, he turned to see the one thing he hoped not to: an angry half Kryptonian standing between him and the exit. Yes, he could easily escape by making another exit, but he probably wouldn’t be able to do so _and_ escape with the parts.

“I don’t suppose you would be amenable to a bribe?” A fierce growl to match a fierce glare. “Didn’t think so, but glad to be sure.”

Superboy leapt at him like a man possessed, raining blows against him as Aaron desperately guarded with his Musclemass arms, feeling the armour fracture and seal with every titanic blow that sent him reeling. He clung tightly, waiting for an opportunity, even as wild punches started to slip through and send force reeling through his form and shredding apart countless cells. Finally, he got a slim opening, punching back and sending Superboy stumbling with a blow to the throat that left him choking.

But Aaron was not done, dodging the clumsy punch meant to send him back while his opponent recovered, hardening and strengthening his knuckles and striking the solar plexus hard, before putting a hand to Superboy‘s face to grab him and throw him into the floor hard enough to break through it, crippling the suspension, shattering the axle, sending the truck stumbling as he calmly unravelled his back to release four strong tentacles that wrapped around the crates as he leapt from the truck. He gave a mocking wave as he moved past Robin's unicycle, as the war that raged within him ended as a spike shot out of Aaron’s armoured hand that burst the tire of his bike leaving him with no choice but going to leap from it and save the driver.

Prize in hand, Aaron considered going after the legs of Amazo before deciding to instead quit while he was ahead and call it a day.

**xXx August 4, 07:40. Gotham, Dead End motel. xXx**

“You mean to tell me that despite the more than generous advance payment I gave you, you still failed to recover even a piece of the android!” It appeared that Red Dynamo was not taking failure well, and had gone absolutely ballistic when Aaron had opted to call him up to give the “bad news”.

“Yeah, pretty much. I don’t know what to tell you. Ivo's bots grabbed everything right in front of me, then the League arrived and started to fight the fully reassembled Amazo, before apparently destroying the full android before I could even get close. There was no chance I was getting anywhere near it, let alone escaping with so much as his pinky toe.” Aaron heard some very load cursing and what may have been a table getting flipped over.

“I paid for quality, not incompetence. I was promised effective results, and I will get them. You will go to STAR labs and deliver me that Android or so help me I WILL HAVE YOU STRANGLED WITH YOUR OWN INTESTINES!” Aaron didn’t think it would calm him down to educate his former employer about his lack of any human organs of any kind, and instead chose to escape the situation.

“Let’s just say the million and a half you gave covers the damages and expenses, and leave it at that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a personal project to start working on. So, goodbye.”

“If you so much as think of cutting this call I swear to you-" Whatever was to be sworn would remain a mystery, since Aaron had more important things to do. Like looking over the partially assembled upper half of Amazo sans much of his outer shell, laying across his dining table. Wires and parts were haphazardly connected and left strewn across the mahogany they were arranged on. It almost looked like the brutal violence of an incompetent surgeon, with how meticulously he had been disassembled.

“I really wish you were the nano machines guy. Not the macho elf guy. Still, that problem can be rectified, I just need to eat a nano materials and a nano technology scientist. Then I can finally make a friend.” He dug scalpel nails into the edges of the face plate and pried it off, revealing the metal skull and red eyes, along with the numerous connectors to the CPU he would need to recreate in time. Damn them for knowing better than to leave the CPU parts in the transport that would let him use them. Ah well, he could do without them. He would find another way to make a friend.

“We’ll do spectacular things my new best friend to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. Like it? Hate it? have any advice for how to do better next time? I'd appreciate any thoughts. And if you want to get in contact with me more directly, then go to this Tumblr page I finally started to use:  
> https://sincerely-mrstranger.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap. Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Also, hope you are looking forward to more, since this mass post will be an indication that I am finally getting my capacity to write back.


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